Emmy and Her Daddy

Beep Stories

tagIncest/TabooEmmy and Her Daddy

***This is an incest bimbofication story, so please only read on if these themes excite you. Enjoy!***
Chapter 1: Conversation
"I think she needs to hear it from you, Jason."
The man squirmed in his seat as he sat cross legged on the bed he shared with his wife. She sat facing him with her typically intense stare as they discussed their daughter, Emily.
"I think being hard on her will only make it worse, Donna. I've never seen her like this before. Never! Never even during her worst teenaged years."
"I think that's exactly why we do need to be firm with her. I'm glad that she's had a place to come back to and that she's had some time to relax and decompress from the whole affair, but sooner or later she's going to need to get back on her feet."
Jason knew he was fighting uphill. It wasn't just that Donna was convincing and intense, but it was the fact that he actually agreed with her. He had always been somewhat of an easygoing father but it had never given him too many challenges before. At least not like this.
"So what am I supposed to say, Donna? Hey Em, you followed your dream and all it did was waste six years of your life and thousands upon thousands of dollars of our money so suck it up and get a job at Denny's?"
"Well that's not a bad start," Donna said, but her mouth was turning up into a wry grin. Jason smiled back in relief. "I'm sorry, it just breaks my heart. I know she'll be fine, but it just breaks my heart."
"You're almost taking it worse than she is," his wife said, putting her hand out to touch his knee lovingly.
"Oh no, let's not go that far. At least I'm showering."
"Yeah, I didn't expect that part," Donna said with a concerned frown. "I guess if she's going to act like a zombie, she might as well smell the part too."
"So when am I supposed to have this conversation? I'll need to think of what I'm going to say. I need to get it just right. So, maybe a month?" Jason joked. Donna wasn't having any of it.
"Tonight, Jason."
"Tonight," he sighed.
"Thank you. Seriously. I'm just tired of being the bad guy, y'know?"
Jason nodded. It was true that he let his wife play the bad cop most of the time when raising their only child. It was a role she had enjoyed at times, but he had to admit that he turned a blind eye to when it would exhaust her, not wanting to stop his role as the fun and understanding father.
"Can we at least order in to soften the blow?"
Donna laughed.
"Listen, I'm not your parent too. You can do whatever you want!"
It was true. Jason did most of the cooking anyway and both Donna and he worked comfortable jobs. It was part of the reason why all the money that Emily blew over the past half-decade didn't bother him so much. Plus, if he was really honest with himself, he felt partly responsible as well. He had always been so encouraging of her and although Donna did her part to try and instill the idea of reality and consequences, Jason had to admit that he had undermined those lessons a few times, secretly bailing Emily out of plenty of situations and always reinforcing the idea that dreams always came true as long as you believed in yourself.
Jason couldn't tell if it was better or worse that Emily was truly a gifted comic. From the first days of her high school open mics to the last show tape she had sent them from New York, Emily had gone from nervous and goofy rambling to clever, well-thought-out, and very funny sets. If she wasn't very good, he may have thought that everything worked out for the best, but in his mind she really did deserve to be famous. But becoming a successful comic seemed like it was even more difficult than becoming a Hollywood actor and after over six years, Emily had finally burnt out and given up on her dream, flying back home from New York to live in her parent's house and sit with her failures. She had spent all the money that Donna and he had set aside for her college and plenty more on top of that. She took small jobs here and there but she otherwise spent much of her time writing and performing her sets. She had built up a small and loyal fan base and for a while there it looked like she might break out, but nothing ever came from what had sounded like exciting opportunities. It was just luck of the draw sometimes and Emily had clearly been on the wrong side of a few dice rolls a few times too often.
Emily had been back living at home for nearly three months now. She had celebrated her 26th birthday there, although "celebrate" was perhaps too strong a word to use. Although Emily had been polite enough and had participated in basic chores like dishes and garbage and vacuuming, she had been a complete depressed mess the entire time. Jason had only glipsed her room once and it looked like she would have to jump from her door to the bed from how cluttered the floor was. She didn't laugh or smile or engage in conversation beyond a few words and despite his best hopes, she hadn't improved a single bit even after his insistance to Donna to just give her more time.
Now he was supposed to give her the tough love talk? To tell her that she needed to get a job and pick herself up after she had spent almost all of her adult life dedicated to a failure? He didn't know if he had it in him. He and Emily had always had a close relationship. Even while she was in New York they talked almost weekly and even were sending letters to each other for a time. He really did believe in his daughter, but he knew that a big part of life was failure, even for a pretty white girl from a relatively wealthy home.
"Well, I might as well get this over with," he said.
"Really?" Donna said with genuine shock. "Mister 'let's give her another week' is going to pull the band-aid off?"
"Yeah, yeah don't make me second-guess it," he said as he began to push himself off the bed. Donna stopped him and grabbed his face and planted a big kiss right on his lips. Even after thirty years of marriage, she still gave him butterflies.
"I love you, Jason. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," he said with a grin, but they knew each other well enough for Donna to know that her words meant a lot to him. He sighed and began his trek down two flights of stairs to visit his shutaway daughter in her basement room.
He was still in his evening comfies, so his socked feet stuck out of his dark blue sweatpants and his loose grey t-shirt bounced around his slim form. Of course, now that he had pushed past the big 5-0, even Jason and his remarkable metabolism couldn't stop the inevitable "Dad bod" from beginning to form. Donna's loving "string bean" nickname was becoming less and less accurate by the year.
Jason swore that as he walked across his finished basement – past the air hockey table and the downstairs TV nook – he could smell his daughter's room as he got closer to it. Had it really gotten so bad? He took a deep breath. He couldn't think about it any more or he would never do it. He knocked.
Nothing.
"Emily? Sweetie?" He called out and knocked again. It wasn't like her to ignore him, even in her depressed state. Then, wondering why he hadn't done this first, he pulled out his phone and texted her.
"Em? Can we talk for a second? I've been knocking."
It was only a few seconds before he got a response.
"Oh shit! Just a second."
Then his daughter's blonde head poked out from her door. Her short hair was ruffled in a rockstar mess and her face was pale and unwashed.
"Sorry, Dad. I was listening to music. What's up?"
"We just need to talk. Can I come in?"
Emily didn't seem to know what to do with that. She looked at him for a good seven seconds without talking and then suddenly inhaled sharply.
"Um. I mean. Sure. Just a second, okay?"
Then she disappeared again. He could hear loud rummaging from behind the closed door. Then silence for almost a minute. Then the door opened again. She was wearing more or less what she had been for the past three months: Baggy grey sweatpants with an increasing number of stains and a huge pink hoodie. She opened the door wider than Jason had seen it since Emily had come home. His impression from the other day hadn't been wrong, it was a complete disaster inside and it was clear that what Emily had done while the door was closed was to push a path clear to the bed.
Although the room was gross, Jason felt sadness more than anything else. His daughter had never been a neat freak or anything, but her room had always been relatively tidy and he had never once had to tell her to clean it and he was pretty sure that Donna hadn't had to do so either.
"Welcome to my palace," she said dryly as she stepped back and waved her hand to welcome him inside. It was the closest thing Jason had heard to a joke out of her since her return.
"Your majesty," he said with a short mock bow before he entered her room. The smell was not nearly as bad as he had imagined which was the only relief about the state of her room.
"I know what this is about," she offered as he took a seat on her bed and she closed the door behind her.
"Oh do you?" He asked with a small grin. "You don't think I just came down for a friendly chat?"
"C'mon, Dad. I bet Mom asked you to talk to me because I've heard the same thing from her a thousand times," she replied.
"Have you been spying on us?" Jason asked half-seriously.
"It's not like I don't know all this stuff, Dad!" Emily said. "Believe me. This entire time I've been trying to pick myself up and going out to hand out resumes or look up schools or just do anything- ANYthing, but I just can't and every day I don't do anything it just makes the next day harder!"
Jason's daughter flopped herself down on her bed and lay back and looked at the ceiling. Jason was a little stunned. He had anticipated a long difficult conversation to draw all this stuff out but she was opening the floodgates all on her own.
"Well…" He started carefully. "Is this the first time you're talking out loud about it?"
"Yeah," she said in a way that implied she knew where he was going with it.
"Do you think it might help to do that more?"
"I dunno, Dad. It's so fucking embarrassing, y'know? I know you and Mom love me no matter what, but you think I don't know how much money I just crapped down the toilet with my stupid bullshit nothing?"
"Emily. Sweetheart. Your mother and I aren't upset about that. You weren't taking advantage of us. We knew what we were giving you and we knew what it was for. We knew that there was always a chance that despite how smart and talented you are, it just wouldn't work out."
Jason could see his daughter tighten uncomfortably when he complimented her. He continued.
"It's stupid. It's unfair. You deserved more with your talent and your hard work, but here we are. I'm just thankful that you have us to come back to and that we have a place for you to decompress from that experience." Jason took a deep breath. "However, like you pointed out, the longer you do nothing, the worse it's going to feel. You're clearly just stewing in your bad feelings. If you put shit bread in the toaster you just get shit toast."
The silence hung in the air as both Jason and Emily absorbed what was just said. Emily broke first and her laughter was like a burst of colour in a black and white world.
"Oh my GOD! Dad! Shit toast?! What are you talking about?!"
Jason couldn't help but join Emily in laughter, realizing just how stupid he had sounded in his attempt to be poignant. He leaned back as well and let out a loud laugh, so grateful to hear a joyful sound from his daughter who had used to be so full of life.
"I don't know! I don't know! It just came out!"
"Just like shit toast!" Emily cracked back and they fell back into fits of laughter.
When they finally calmed down, Jason sat back up and fixed his gaze on Emily who was still wiping her eyes, clearly laughing more than she normally would because of how long it had been.
"Look. I know your parents aren't always the people you want to talk to and I know you're embarrassed, but me and your Mom are, let's face it, pretty chill about everything when it comes to you. And try to let your mother in sometimes, would you? She's had it tough playing the bad guy all these years." Jason said, wondering why he had never said anything like that to her before.
"Yeah, I know. I don't really think of her as the bad guy, don't worry. Not since high school. She's just so put together, y'know? I'm just really scared of disappointing her."
"Oh and what am I? Shit toast?" Jason said, masking his true hurt behind a joke.
"Oh no, of course not, Dad. But you know. You and I have always been more like buddies."
"I know, of course," Jason said. He hadn't expected to be the ones with his feelings hurt from this conversation, but here he was. "Well, the point is that I'm putting on my Dad shoes today and telling you that we're going to need to start seeing some changes around here, okay? You went through something major and of course that needs time, but you're 26 and I know you're capable of making it through this. Me and your Mom are only here to support you."
"Thanks, Dad. But can I just tell you one thing?"
"What's that?"
"How can you be putting on your Dad shoes when you're not even wearing shoes?"
"Goodbye, Emily. Text me what you want for dinner. We're ordering in."
"You got it," she said. Despite how well the conversation had gone overall, Jason could still hear the heaviness in her voice.
Then he saw it.
He wasn't sure why it only caught his eye now or why it had caught his eye at all, but among the huge stacked mess that was the current state of his daughter's room, he spotted a bright pink bottle. He looked away immediately and left her room. It couldn't be. There was no way that Emily would have a bottle like that, but the pink was unmistakable. His stomach churned and his heart beat like crazy as he made he way back up to report to his wife. Should he tell her?
"Back already?" Donna asked incredulously.
"Yeah, she just opened up without me asking!" Jason said and immediately regretted it upon seeing the hurt and frustration in his wife's eyes.
"Don't worry," he rushed to add. "She told me she hasn't talked to you because your opinion means more to her than mine."
"You're just saying that," Donna said, her voice trembling. Jason only saw his wife cry once a year – if that – so he was shocked to see her get so emotional so quickly.
"I just think that she had hit a breaking point. I think at least from now on she'll talk to us more."
"Well I sure hope so," Donna said, forcing herself out of her vulnerable state. "So what are we eating?"
As if on cue, Jason's phone dinged and he looked at the notification.
"Sushi. Big surprise."
The pink bottle flashed again in Jason's mind, but he decided not to bring it up. He was probably wrong and after such an intense evening it was better to leave things as they were since they had ended so comfortably.
The rest of the evening was easily the best the family had had since Emily had come home. They talked and laughed like they used to. Jason knew that there was no such thing as a quick fix or a fast turnaround when it came to what his daughter had gone through, but he was still grateful that she was finally able to smile again.
But that night, Jason couldn't sleep. He rarely had insomnia, but when he did, he had it bad. Donna was asleep beside him and so he just stared up at the ceiling. He had forgotten about it for hours, but the sight of that pink bottle in Emily's room was haunting him again.
Pink Industries was a name that had rarely been mentioned in the suburb of Lyre until this year and even now people only spoke about it quietly with people they trusted. It had always just seemed like a city problem, something that the vain and trendy would indulge in for whatever reason. But years passed and it no longer appeared to be a trend or an exclusively urban social development. There was only one Bimbofication in Lyre that Jason knew about but it was the the one that everybody knew about: Cindy from the drug store. She had been a stern pharmicist but now only worked the cash and wasn't even very good at that. Everybody in Lyre talked about her with pity and disdain but Jason had to admit that she seemed a lot happier now. Of course, there was that dark side of him that just loved to be helped by her. The way she stuck her huge chest out and bounced when she talked to him, the way she would giggle when he would look into her cleavage, the way her voice made her sound so empty and submissive. It was extremely shallow, Jason knew, but he couldn't deny his primal lust for the town's only known Bimbo.
Jason knew that Emily had come from New York, but that alone wouldn't mean that she would buy Pink Pills, would it? And why? Did she want to escape her life so badly after her experience in the big city that she would become a completely different person?
Underneath his concern and confusion was another stream of thoughts that Jason was doing his best to ignore, but the more he ignored those thoughts, the more awake he felt. Sometimes the brain can be too smart for its own good and Jason played this game of ignorance with himself for almost an hour before the perverted images his imagination had conjured bubbled up and were too strong to ignore and he closed his eyes.
Emily, his beautiful daughter – now as bright-eyed and bubbly as Cindy – stood before him in his mind. Now that he was here, he might as well commit, he figured. He dressed her in a bikini.
"Hi, Daddy!" Emily said in his mind, smiling and waving. That simple action caused her new huge Bimbo tits to wobble in the tiny pink bathing suit he had stuffed her body into in his mind's eye. Then she giggled and put her hands behind her back, twisting on her heel as she let her father admire her exposed curvy figure.
Jason forced his eyes open. He was breathing fast and heavy and realized that he had a raging erection. He needed to masturbate to get these thoughts off his mind. He looked over to check that his wife was still sleeping and was met with a massive shock when he looked right into her open eyes.
He felt overwhelmed with guilt and had a brief moment when he wondered if Donna somehow knew what he had been thinking. Then he noticed the expression on his wife's face.
"Had an exciting dream?" She said slyly and she rolled on top of him. "I did too."
She was wearing what she always wore to bed, a large white t-shirt and panties and although the couple wasn't new to middle-of-the-night sex, this felt electric to Jason. He reached up and gripped Donna's hips and pulled her against him.
"Fuck you're hard," she breathed, collapsing down to her elbows so that her long red hair draped around his head, putting their faces under a tent. This always felt so sexy and romantic to Jason and he grinned as he continued to push up and down to grind into his wife through their clothing.
"Must have been a good dream," she said.
"It was," he growled and then he let one of his hands leave her waist so he could grip the back of her head and pull her into a kiss. She yelped in delight at his sudden assertiveness which was soon muffled by the kiss. Their lips moved in experienced harmony. They knew each other so well that it was like seeing an old friend or performing a favourite dance, it still felt new and exciting. He shifted a hand from his wife's waist onto her still impressively toned butt and feigned that he was going to grope her but instead used the position to flip her onto her back.
"Jason!" She cried. her shock and delight was clear in her eyes.
"I've been too nice to you lately," he grunted with a small smile. He made sure to catch her eye in case she were to give him a sign that something wasn't okay but her look gave him the all clear. "And I think you just need to get fucked."

Report Story

byNelSymington© 0 comments/ 12 views/ 15 favoritesSubmit bug reportNext4 Pages:123