Chapter 13

With the lights left switched on, Hilary Hamilton-Jenkins took in the scene before her as her naked husband and daughter, who was wearing only a pair of stockings and a suspender belt, lay asleep in Hillary's own bed, their arms wrapped around each other...

With her stomach turning over in disgust, Hilary slipped out of the room only to return a few moments later, the family's digital camera in hand. Lining up some shots of the pair laying on the bed, she pressed the shutter several times, a grim smile on her face. She wasn't sure what she was going to do with the resulting images, but she figured that she had all night to think things over...

The sound of rattling crockery broke through into Philip's sleeping mind and entered his dream in which he was merrily buggering his daughter's beautiful arse from behind. Pulled out of his cosy fantasy world, he half opened a single eye and saw his wife diligently standing there, his early morning tea-tray in hand, just like on every other morning in the Hamilton-Jenkins household. With a small part of his mind wondering why he was so chill, he rolled over onto his back at which point he realised that he wasn't warm because there were no sheets or blankets covering him. Then he spotted that his penis was fully erect and engorged as a result of his dream; with no sheets to cover himself with, there was little he could do to hide his condition from his wife who was patiently waiting, still holding the tray.

While Philip was sleepily trying to think what to do about the situation he found himself in, a small alarm bell started to sound in his brain. It took a moment or two but the events of the previous evening suddenly flooded back to him and he guiltily glanced over to the other side of the bed where he could see Elizabeth laying, still fast asleep. "Oh, god!" he muttered as realisation of his true situation sank in to him.

"'Oh, god' indeed, Philip," his wife answered as she put the tray down by her husband's side of the bed before adding the milk to his cup. Looking meaningfully at her daughter's almost nude form, she quietly asked, "Did you have intercourse with her?"

Lost for words, her husband's guilty expression was answer enough for Hilary. "I see," she muttered mostly to herself before raising her voice back to her normal tone. "There's a nasty, little word for that - it's known as incest."

"I know..."

"And it's illegal," his wife pressed on remorselessly.

Wishing that his damned erection would just go away but knowing that it wouldn't for as long as the still sleeping Elizabeth was laying, uncovered, on her stomach next to him, her arse brazenly on display, taunting him. "I know that too."

"I want you to agree not to do it again."

Philip took in that demand, possibly the first his wife had ever issued to him. He was ashamed of what he'd done, that much was true, but he'd greatly enjoyed his experience of the previous evening and he was loath to give up the right to do it again. Besides, Philip was used to telling his wife what to do and she, as the good little woman, did it - this was the principal that his life worked by and he wasn't going to compromise that. Looking defiantly up at his wife, he gave her his answer. "No - why should I?"

"Because if you don't, I'll report you to the police."

Philip laughed nastily, "With no proof? With my contacts with the authorities? And Elizabeth will deny it, that I'm sure. They'll throw you out of the station if you try it!"

Laying on the bed, Elizabeth started to stir and wake up so that her parents fell silent for a moment. The young woman rolled over onto her back, her legs spread slightly apart, a position she held for some moments before she finally stirred again and opened her eyes. Seeing her mother looking down at her, Elizabeth gave out a little scream and clamped both hands between her legs as her face turned beetroot red.

"Go to your room, Elizabeth," her father ordered.

Without a sound and certainly without argument, Elizabeth clambered off the bed and, with one hand still held in place, she scuttled out of the room with just single backwards glance over her shoulder as she went through the door.

"And will they laugh at these?" Hilary demanded to know pulling some photographs from her pocket and holding them out for Philip to inspect. As he studied the images, the bottom fell out of his world. "And one other thing, Philip..."

"What's that?" he asked as his erection ignominiously died between his legs.

"If you ever use that bloody hairbrush on me again, I'll send out these pictures!"

Shocked by his wife's profanity, Philip didn't answer. "I'm just pleased," Hilary went on, "that Elizabeth will be safely out of this house and your clutches after this Saturday!" Glaring at the man with whom she'd spent most of her life, Hilary backed through the door, closing it behind her.

Left alone in the room, Philip breathed out heavily before allowing himself a small smile. To him it seemed somehow poetic that Elizabeth had effectively seduced him in an attempt to get him to agree to delay her intended marriage and all she'd managed to do - thanks to the pair of them falling asleep in each other's arms - was to totally alienate her main ally, the one person who, until last night, only wanted her daughter to remain at home for as long as possible...

By the time that Hilary arrived at her daughter's bedroom, Elizabeth had slipped on a dressing gown and had worked out a strategy to deal with the situation so that when her mother finally entered the room, tears were running down Elizabeth's cheeks and she immediately ran over towards her mother before throwing her arms around the older woman.

"Was it really bad, sweetheart?" Hilary asked her sobbing daughter returning the embrace tenderly.

Elizabeth nodded and pretended that she didn't want to talk about it.

"But don't worry, darling, I've spoken to your father and he won't be touching either of us again. Now, dry your tears and get dressed. We have to go out shopping - you need a suitable outfit to get married in and then you should have something less formal for the reception."

"Is the wedding going ahead then, mother?" Elizabeth asked sounding innocently enough despite the emotions that were raging inside her.

"Oh, yes - the sooner you're out of this house, the better. Now, hurry up and let's spend a whole load of your father's money..." then, smiling at her daughter, Hilary left the room closing the door gently behind her.

Elizabeth looked at the door then cursed fluently before picking up a vase and smashing it against a wall. Her outburst over, she got a grip on herself and snatched up her mobile telephone before dialling Master Sam's number. After a few moments the connection was made and his voice simply said, "Yes, what do you want, slut?"

"Oh, Master, very bad news - my dad's organised my wedding for this Saturday!"

"And this should interest me?" Sam asked callously.

The wind taken out of her sails totally, Liz stumbled and tried to rethink what she had intended to say. "I... I thought it might... as it surely must affect our relationship..."

"Why?" he asked before going on, "Whether you're single or married doesn't matter to me. If your name changes, I don't give a damn. You're my slut and you will remain my slut until I tire of you and dismiss you for good. When I call you, you will obey and attend to my needs. Whether you have to make your excuses to a father or a husband doesn't interest me. Mabel has a husband and she still serves me adequately."

"I... I see, Master. Thank you, Sir," Liz stumbled.

"Do you wish to terminate my relationship with you, slut?"

"No, Sir, I certainly do not!"

"Then it's up to you to sort out your life. Text me when you have timings and a location for the ceremony, reception and which hotel you're spending the first night in. And stop telephoning me without permission to do so!"