It was about time I write something.
I lack the talent of many here for creative action. But I do like to twist the knife when it comes to embarrassment and the related emotions. So I hope this is interesting. Feedback is welcome.
The Messy Truth (Complete 3 parts)
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notme222
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Re: The Messy Truth (Complete 3 parts)
Bella Labet was not a confident girl. Smart and curious, yes — but conviction came rarely to her. Only one truth had ever anchored her with absolute certainty: little brothers are the most aggravating creatures on God's green earth.
At 18, she knew she straddled the line between girl and woman. More the former, to be honest, given the comfort of her conservative upbringing. Though she liked herself, Bella was acutely aware that she lacked the experience of her peers. But with a whole semester of college under her belt she was starting to believe, just maybe, that th…
"I said, are your undies clean?" repeated Preston a little louder. "You know the family rules. We don't lie."
"Um … yes, I think so…" squeaked Bella, blushing and shuffling away.
The Labet household knew that morality and hygiene go together. Especially for young women. A proper lady doesn't dirty herself by having inappropriate thoughts. And if she did, she certainly wouldn’t walk around with the evidence. Bella understood why that would be a shameful thing. What she didn't understand was how her brother figured out he could humiliate her by asking. But he had, and she hadn't won an argument since.
That aside, it was nice to be home on winter break. Although she enjoyed attending Purdue, the large university could leave one feeling isolated. Easily embarrassed by new social experiences, Bella found it hard to break out of her shell. At home, she always knew what to expect.
Thus Bella spent most of her break enjoying the comforts of home. A bedroom with no roommate gave her more time for self-gratifiaction, but she also enjoyed the warmth of familial love. Like discussing her academics with Daddy, helping Mom in the kitchen, and politely tolerating Preston. That last was the toughest, of course. One might forgive the girl's frustration when she went to the den and found it littered with Doritos crumbs and Red Bull empties. Spotting him in the hall, she bellowed "Preston, why is this room so messy?"
He didn't miss a beat. "Why are your undies so messy?"
And as always, she struggled for a good response. "They … I don't think they …" Time was ticking and annoyance got the better of her. "Shut up you twerp, you don't know anything about girls!"
Bella felt good for standing up for herself. For about one-and-a-half seconds. Until a loud voice boomed from the other room. "Excuse me?"
Eyes wide, Bella forgot her previous target and rushed to meet her father and apologize. Too late, he was already halfway to her, giving her no more opening than "I'm…"
"In this house, we don't talk to people like that. I don't know what habits you're learning when you're away, but clearly you need a reminder."
She held her breath, hoping the reminder was a mild one.
"Timeout. Everything."
"Yes, Daddy."
Had anyone asked, Bella felt a "pants down" timeout would have been more than sufficient. Not that anyone ever asked. But at 18, any punishment at all is embarrassing. Skirts up or pants down is humiliating. But as she found herself in the living room corner, removing her socks and tugging down her PJ bottoms, she could only wish for that limited exposure.
Each article was neatly folded and placed on the nearby table. Soon followed by her PJ top and small-but-respectable bra. And finally, the item that apparently demanded inquiry, her panties. "Sure they're worn," thought Bella. "No one would mistake them for laundry-fresh. But I think they're pretty clean. Not that it matters now…"
Thus undressed, she re-acquainted herself with the corner. No stranger to it, despite a few months reprieve, she fit in like old furniture. Bella's long wavy blonde hair fell down her back, currently fashioned in a style one might call "two fistfuls" as hands gripped her head and her elbows extended up and out. Each made contact with a nearby wall, and her feet obediently did the same further back. This caused her to lean forward and spread, meaning her charms would be discernible to anyone at the right angle. Especially since she had to…
"Heels up, Bella," instructed Preston.
So annoying! She was getting to it. Nothing worse than being reminded of what you were going to do anyway. Plus it made him seem like an authority and reminded her of his presence. Somehow he was often present during these sessions. And occasionally he would help his poor big sister to picture the situation, by documenting it with photos to be tauntingly shared later. For now, nothing to do but obey and keep her head in place.
Minutes passed. The position grew slightly uncomfortable. Calves stretched as she stood on her toes. Buttocks clenched. She wasn't sure that actually hid anything, but she might as well try. The muscle workout might have been helping her bottom stay perky and round as well, but at the moment that was less of a benefit for Bella and more one for the passers-by.
Unable to turn her head, for confirmation, Bella thought she heard her parents conversing near her folded clothes. The topic wasn't clear, only words like "frequency" and "compensate". She heard the instruction her Dad gave her brother, though. "Preston, bring three chairs over here."
"Yeah, make him do chores," thought Bella. "Move stuff and clean and … wait, chairs to where?"
That question was soon answered as she heard them positioned behind her. Set down, adjusted, and then occupied. This could not be good.
At 18, she knew she straddled the line between girl and woman. More the former, to be honest, given the comfort of her conservative upbringing. Though she liked herself, Bella was acutely aware that she lacked the experience of her peers. But with a whole semester of college under her belt she was starting to believe, just maybe, that th…
"I said, are your undies clean?" repeated Preston a little louder. "You know the family rules. We don't lie."
"Um … yes, I think so…" squeaked Bella, blushing and shuffling away.
The Labet household knew that morality and hygiene go together. Especially for young women. A proper lady doesn't dirty herself by having inappropriate thoughts. And if she did, she certainly wouldn’t walk around with the evidence. Bella understood why that would be a shameful thing. What she didn't understand was how her brother figured out he could humiliate her by asking. But he had, and she hadn't won an argument since.
That aside, it was nice to be home on winter break. Although she enjoyed attending Purdue, the large university could leave one feeling isolated. Easily embarrassed by new social experiences, Bella found it hard to break out of her shell. At home, she always knew what to expect.
Thus Bella spent most of her break enjoying the comforts of home. A bedroom with no roommate gave her more time for self-gratifiaction, but she also enjoyed the warmth of familial love. Like discussing her academics with Daddy, helping Mom in the kitchen, and politely tolerating Preston. That last was the toughest, of course. One might forgive the girl's frustration when she went to the den and found it littered with Doritos crumbs and Red Bull empties. Spotting him in the hall, she bellowed "Preston, why is this room so messy?"
He didn't miss a beat. "Why are your undies so messy?"
And as always, she struggled for a good response. "They … I don't think they …" Time was ticking and annoyance got the better of her. "Shut up you twerp, you don't know anything about girls!"
Bella felt good for standing up for herself. For about one-and-a-half seconds. Until a loud voice boomed from the other room. "Excuse me?"
Eyes wide, Bella forgot her previous target and rushed to meet her father and apologize. Too late, he was already halfway to her, giving her no more opening than "I'm…"
"In this house, we don't talk to people like that. I don't know what habits you're learning when you're away, but clearly you need a reminder."
She held her breath, hoping the reminder was a mild one.
"Timeout. Everything."
"Yes, Daddy."
Had anyone asked, Bella felt a "pants down" timeout would have been more than sufficient. Not that anyone ever asked. But at 18, any punishment at all is embarrassing. Skirts up or pants down is humiliating. But as she found herself in the living room corner, removing her socks and tugging down her PJ bottoms, she could only wish for that limited exposure.
Each article was neatly folded and placed on the nearby table. Soon followed by her PJ top and small-but-respectable bra. And finally, the item that apparently demanded inquiry, her panties. "Sure they're worn," thought Bella. "No one would mistake them for laundry-fresh. But I think they're pretty clean. Not that it matters now…"
Thus undressed, she re-acquainted herself with the corner. No stranger to it, despite a few months reprieve, she fit in like old furniture. Bella's long wavy blonde hair fell down her back, currently fashioned in a style one might call "two fistfuls" as hands gripped her head and her elbows extended up and out. Each made contact with a nearby wall, and her feet obediently did the same further back. This caused her to lean forward and spread, meaning her charms would be discernible to anyone at the right angle. Especially since she had to…
"Heels up, Bella," instructed Preston.
So annoying! She was getting to it. Nothing worse than being reminded of what you were going to do anyway. Plus it made him seem like an authority and reminded her of his presence. Somehow he was often present during these sessions. And occasionally he would help his poor big sister to picture the situation, by documenting it with photos to be tauntingly shared later. For now, nothing to do but obey and keep her head in place.
Minutes passed. The position grew slightly uncomfortable. Calves stretched as she stood on her toes. Buttocks clenched. She wasn't sure that actually hid anything, but she might as well try. The muscle workout might have been helping her bottom stay perky and round as well, but at the moment that was less of a benefit for Bella and more one for the passers-by.
Unable to turn her head, for confirmation, Bella thought she heard her parents conversing near her folded clothes. The topic wasn't clear, only words like "frequency" and "compensate". She heard the instruction her Dad gave her brother, though. "Preston, bring three chairs over here."
"Yeah, make him do chores," thought Bella. "Move stuff and clean and … wait, chairs to where?"
That question was soon answered as she heard them positioned behind her. Set down, adjusted, and then occupied. This could not be good.
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notme222
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Re: The Messy Truth (Complete 3 parts)
"Turn around, Bella. Keep your hands where they are. Step forward. Right, now get those feet back apart."
Daddy's orders were followed without question, as always. But the family was always big on tradition and this was new. New isn't good. In a pre-emptive strike, her blush was already spreading down past her chest.
And a proud little chest it was. Cute pink areolae with jaunty nipples sat on mounds that would be perky under any circumstances. With elbows flared these raised a toast as well, rising to meet the humble cross that hung from her neck. They were impossible not to notice, even if one were merely trying to look her in the eye. Especially if seated.
Alternatively, Bella Theater now offered a second screening on the lower level. Shaving had never been permitted until recently, after a hard-fought appeal. Not to show boys - although she'd been interrogated about that. No, her hair removal was purely for convenience and self-image. And she did like the look. Secretly, Bella might even say it was pretty. But the razor was actually a double-edged sword as now no hair remained to hide behind. And the delicate details between her legs were easily examined by the arranged audience.
Two sat in the front row: Bella's father who did not look happy. And Bella's brother, who very much did. Like most younger brothers, Preston enjoyed seeing his sister embarrassed and getting a little leverage on her. Unlike most brothers, he'd hit the jackpot this evening. And a short distance behind them was her mother, clutching her own cross and looking quite concerned.
Bella didn't know where to look. Where she'd like to be looking is the underside of the quilt in her room. But that wasn't an option. She had just about settled on the ceiling as a runner-up when her father spoke.
"This is a punishment for your attitude," he said, commanding attention. "Make no mistake. If you get them less often now, they need to be more memorable. But also, we're concerned. Your mother noticed a disproportionate amount of your underwear in the laundry. We're glad you're staying clean, but that shouldn't be necessary. And seeing how you overreacted to Preston's innocent question, we think you know that."
The unstated question lingered.
It's possible that Bella might have cleared up this whole punishment by offering the truth: She preferred masturbating through panties. That would have initiated a whole new punishment, as good girls know to pray the temptation away. But it would solve the mystery.
Bella couldn't bring herself to say this. But she'd never lied either.
So, in a case of better-late-than-never, she prayed. "Please don't let Daddy ask me directly." Not one to be greedy, she also offered alternate solutions involving sinkholes or meteors. But option one proved acceptable as her father resumed speaking.
"So, Bella, your mother and I simply want to see if you have an issue. Maybe you need a doctor?" he said, not unkindly. "Or maybe you just need prayer." Mom nodded. "Your privates shouldn't get messy from just standing here. So we're going to see."
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. No need for Bella to confess her shameful habit. She just had to stand completely naked while her parents stared at her labia. The girl briefly wondered if any other Purdue freshmen were having similar experiences on their winter break, before discarding the idea as unlikely. But maybe one brief mercy was possible.
"Does … does Preston have to be here?" she said with shaken words.
"Oh, that?" replied Daddy with the first hint of a smile. "That was your idea. You said he didn't know about girls, so clearly his big sister just wanted to show him."
If linguistic scientists could somehow cross a whimper with a sob, there wouldn’t be a name for it. But it would closely approximate Bella's reaction. One last hope: she reasoned if they're staring underneath anyway, maybe it's acceptable to avoid facing them.
"Can I turn back around?"
"Yes you can."
Gratefully, she took this most minor of victories and pivoted back toward the corner.
"Now bend over and grab your ankles."
Perhaps the name might be a whimsob. Or sobper.
The upside-down world offered little comfort to a girl displaying her most secret place in the most obscene way. Smooth, hairless lips parted naturally in this position, the delicate pink folds revealing themselves like silk curtains drawn aside on a private stage. Higher still, her puckered rear entrance made an appearance. It played no part in these proceedings, but offered a friendly wink nonetheless. Mom and Dad's inverted expressions seemed no less serious. Preston's stare no less intense.
And so Bella had naught to do but wait. Wait until nothing happened, proving nothing was wrong, so she could go back to having nothing on display.
Because nothing would happen.
Right?
Daddy's orders were followed without question, as always. But the family was always big on tradition and this was new. New isn't good. In a pre-emptive strike, her blush was already spreading down past her chest.
And a proud little chest it was. Cute pink areolae with jaunty nipples sat on mounds that would be perky under any circumstances. With elbows flared these raised a toast as well, rising to meet the humble cross that hung from her neck. They were impossible not to notice, even if one were merely trying to look her in the eye. Especially if seated.
Alternatively, Bella Theater now offered a second screening on the lower level. Shaving had never been permitted until recently, after a hard-fought appeal. Not to show boys - although she'd been interrogated about that. No, her hair removal was purely for convenience and self-image. And she did like the look. Secretly, Bella might even say it was pretty. But the razor was actually a double-edged sword as now no hair remained to hide behind. And the delicate details between her legs were easily examined by the arranged audience.
Two sat in the front row: Bella's father who did not look happy. And Bella's brother, who very much did. Like most younger brothers, Preston enjoyed seeing his sister embarrassed and getting a little leverage on her. Unlike most brothers, he'd hit the jackpot this evening. And a short distance behind them was her mother, clutching her own cross and looking quite concerned.
Bella didn't know where to look. Where she'd like to be looking is the underside of the quilt in her room. But that wasn't an option. She had just about settled on the ceiling as a runner-up when her father spoke.
"This is a punishment for your attitude," he said, commanding attention. "Make no mistake. If you get them less often now, they need to be more memorable. But also, we're concerned. Your mother noticed a disproportionate amount of your underwear in the laundry. We're glad you're staying clean, but that shouldn't be necessary. And seeing how you overreacted to Preston's innocent question, we think you know that."
The unstated question lingered.
It's possible that Bella might have cleared up this whole punishment by offering the truth: She preferred masturbating through panties. That would have initiated a whole new punishment, as good girls know to pray the temptation away. But it would solve the mystery.
Bella couldn't bring herself to say this. But she'd never lied either.
So, in a case of better-late-than-never, she prayed. "Please don't let Daddy ask me directly." Not one to be greedy, she also offered alternate solutions involving sinkholes or meteors. But option one proved acceptable as her father resumed speaking.
"So, Bella, your mother and I simply want to see if you have an issue. Maybe you need a doctor?" he said, not unkindly. "Or maybe you just need prayer." Mom nodded. "Your privates shouldn't get messy from just standing here. So we're going to see."
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. No need for Bella to confess her shameful habit. She just had to stand completely naked while her parents stared at her labia. The girl briefly wondered if any other Purdue freshmen were having similar experiences on their winter break, before discarding the idea as unlikely. But maybe one brief mercy was possible.
"Does … does Preston have to be here?" she said with shaken words.
"Oh, that?" replied Daddy with the first hint of a smile. "That was your idea. You said he didn't know about girls, so clearly his big sister just wanted to show him."
If linguistic scientists could somehow cross a whimper with a sob, there wouldn’t be a name for it. But it would closely approximate Bella's reaction. One last hope: she reasoned if they're staring underneath anyway, maybe it's acceptable to avoid facing them.
"Can I turn back around?"
"Yes you can."
Gratefully, she took this most minor of victories and pivoted back toward the corner.
"Now bend over and grab your ankles."
Perhaps the name might be a whimsob. Or sobper.
The upside-down world offered little comfort to a girl displaying her most secret place in the most obscene way. Smooth, hairless lips parted naturally in this position, the delicate pink folds revealing themselves like silk curtains drawn aside on a private stage. Higher still, her puckered rear entrance made an appearance. It played no part in these proceedings, but offered a friendly wink nonetheless. Mom and Dad's inverted expressions seemed no less serious. Preston's stare no less intense.
And so Bella had naught to do but wait. Wait until nothing happened, proving nothing was wrong, so she could go back to having nothing on display.
Because nothing would happen.
Right?
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notme222
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Re: The Messy Truth (Complete 3 parts)
Bella didn't think herself any more horny than the average 18-year-old girl. Admittedly she might have dirty thoughts more often, but her fantasies were much milder. So she figured if you multiply that out, the result is similar.
In fact, “much milder” would be an understatement. When looking around at handsome classmates, the only 4-letter word in Bella’s mind was “talk”. And even that was mostly a dream. Oh she was cute, and her body’s selling points have been thoroughly documented by now. But given the opportunity, she could only think of what good girls don’t do. Not what they actually should do. So she shrank away.
Bella sometimes wondered if something was missing in her wiring. On the contrary. God had simply given her an extra step. Other girls had naughty thoughts and got aroused. But not Bella. She had naughty thoughts and got embarrassed.
And then she got aroused.
As the blush reached her waist (delayed by the unexpectedly uphill journey), the rest of her body figured it finally understood the assignment. And just like dew drops gathering on the petals of a forbidden rose … the inevitable was coming. She wasn't sure why she worked like this, and she sure didn't know how to stop it.
"Are we done?" asked Bella hopefully through her knees.
"Hush girl, it's been 30 seconds."
Darn. She could have sworn it had been a couple hours. Her mind raced.
"Think about wholesome stuff. Like church. Going to church on Sunday. Church on Sunday with my family. My good, upstanding family, who are
currently staring up my babymaker while my body is getting turned on … Oh my God!"
Unlike their male counterparts, girls have slightly more deniability with arousal. Even naked and bent over. Her pretty pink parts turned a bit red, but that might be blush. The inner bits are more inclined to say hello, but in Bella's position everything's visible anyway. And a little moisture can be subtle. When the first drop made its way to the surface, someone would have to be looking very closely to spot it.
All three noticed immediately.
Mom gasped. She'd so hoped her daughter would prove them wrong.
"Gross!" exclaimed Preston. Although apparently not so gross as to divert his gaze or diminish his grin.
But most distressing to the young lady was her father. Still silent, he pointed accusingly. His finger reached close enough that for a moment Bella wasn't sure it would stop at pointing. And to her great shame, that thought only spurred her reaction on further.
The first bead was soon joined by others, leaving no doubt as to her ongoing status. And while none of the Labets were doing precise calculations, it was fairly evident that if this happened 24/7 the girl would be dehydrated.
"Stop it, Bella!" ordered Dad. If only she could.
All three witnesses were weighing the same question, but her little brother was the first to give it voice.
"Why are you doing this right now?"
No answer existed but THE answer. Horrendous though it was, she could only speak the truth. And with shallow breath and shuttered eyes, Bella confessed.
"Be… because you're all looking at me!"
Thunderous silence.
"Lord, help this child," prayed Mom. It did seem the best solution at hand. Dad needed to be sure.
"Bella, are you saying … is the daughter I raised admitting … that you are getting aroused from your own family?"
Although that's not exactly how Bella would have phrased it, it wasn't deniable either. Water welled at her upside-down eyes as she confirmed.
"Yes, Daddy!"
The man shook his head at a rare loss for words. Preston wasn't so limited.
"My own sister's a pervert!"
"Preston!"
"What, Mom? That's the word for it."
There might be other words for it, but they wouldn’t have made anyone feel better.
Dad found himself. "Bella, I have never been so disappointed in my entire life. You should be ashamed of yourself."
(Oh, she was.)
"We taught you morals. We taught you self-respect. And this is how you behave? It's sickening."
Bella's gut folded in on itself. Embarrassment, shame, disgrace, and guilt all swirled in an emotional black hole. Blinking tears away, she looked to each upturned face for pity but found mostly judgement. Meanwhile, the wetness accumulated, unabated.
"We can't keep her standing there," said Mom.
"At last!", Bella thought. A little help.
"She's going to make a mess on the carpet."
Daddy stood and turned. Bella's eyes stayed on her mom and brother, hoping to be left alone. She saw them not leaving. What she didn't see is that neither had her dad. Retrieving her panties from the top of the pile, he'd wadded them into a makeshift sponge. Thus she was surprised when he re-entered her peripheral vision. But not half as surprised as a moment later when cloth made contact!
"Ohhhh!" shrieked Bella in a prolonged rising voice.
If one didn’t know better, they might mistake it for a climax.
Never having witnessed her like this before, none of her family knew better.
Dad recoiled in horror. Mom couldn't complete a sentence, and got as far as "Did she just…" before fleeing the room. Even Preston's amusement gave way to shock.
"... Our own dad?"
Mr. Labet dropped the now-soiled underwear and turned away. His voice was defeated and confused as he issued a final order. "Go to your room, Bella. Get your clothes and go."
She stood and wanted to give a tear-laden explanation or apology, but found neither words nor audience. Panties were retrieved from the floor, other garments from the pile. And with her face now competing for the wettest body part, she left. Privacy at last, but far too late.
In truth, although Bella was no stranger to masturbation, she found it hard to climax. Most of the time she just didn't get there. Certainly she hadn't achieved one so quickly in the living room corner. But the even more awful truth is that with nothing to do but relive her embarrassment, she would now. Twice.
In fact, “much milder” would be an understatement. When looking around at handsome classmates, the only 4-letter word in Bella’s mind was “talk”. And even that was mostly a dream. Oh she was cute, and her body’s selling points have been thoroughly documented by now. But given the opportunity, she could only think of what good girls don’t do. Not what they actually should do. So she shrank away.
Bella sometimes wondered if something was missing in her wiring. On the contrary. God had simply given her an extra step. Other girls had naughty thoughts and got aroused. But not Bella. She had naughty thoughts and got embarrassed.
And then she got aroused.
As the blush reached her waist (delayed by the unexpectedly uphill journey), the rest of her body figured it finally understood the assignment. And just like dew drops gathering on the petals of a forbidden rose … the inevitable was coming. She wasn't sure why she worked like this, and she sure didn't know how to stop it.
"Are we done?" asked Bella hopefully through her knees.
"Hush girl, it's been 30 seconds."
Darn. She could have sworn it had been a couple hours. Her mind raced.
"Think about wholesome stuff. Like church. Going to church on Sunday. Church on Sunday with my family. My good, upstanding family, who are
currently staring up my babymaker while my body is getting turned on … Oh my God!"
Unlike their male counterparts, girls have slightly more deniability with arousal. Even naked and bent over. Her pretty pink parts turned a bit red, but that might be blush. The inner bits are more inclined to say hello, but in Bella's position everything's visible anyway. And a little moisture can be subtle. When the first drop made its way to the surface, someone would have to be looking very closely to spot it.
All three noticed immediately.
Mom gasped. She'd so hoped her daughter would prove them wrong.
"Gross!" exclaimed Preston. Although apparently not so gross as to divert his gaze or diminish his grin.
But most distressing to the young lady was her father. Still silent, he pointed accusingly. His finger reached close enough that for a moment Bella wasn't sure it would stop at pointing. And to her great shame, that thought only spurred her reaction on further.
The first bead was soon joined by others, leaving no doubt as to her ongoing status. And while none of the Labets were doing precise calculations, it was fairly evident that if this happened 24/7 the girl would be dehydrated.
"Stop it, Bella!" ordered Dad. If only she could.
All three witnesses were weighing the same question, but her little brother was the first to give it voice.
"Why are you doing this right now?"
No answer existed but THE answer. Horrendous though it was, she could only speak the truth. And with shallow breath and shuttered eyes, Bella confessed.
"Be… because you're all looking at me!"
Thunderous silence.
"Lord, help this child," prayed Mom. It did seem the best solution at hand. Dad needed to be sure.
"Bella, are you saying … is the daughter I raised admitting … that you are getting aroused from your own family?"
Although that's not exactly how Bella would have phrased it, it wasn't deniable either. Water welled at her upside-down eyes as she confirmed.
"Yes, Daddy!"
The man shook his head at a rare loss for words. Preston wasn't so limited.
"My own sister's a pervert!"
"Preston!"
"What, Mom? That's the word for it."
There might be other words for it, but they wouldn’t have made anyone feel better.
Dad found himself. "Bella, I have never been so disappointed in my entire life. You should be ashamed of yourself."
(Oh, she was.)
"We taught you morals. We taught you self-respect. And this is how you behave? It's sickening."
Bella's gut folded in on itself. Embarrassment, shame, disgrace, and guilt all swirled in an emotional black hole. Blinking tears away, she looked to each upturned face for pity but found mostly judgement. Meanwhile, the wetness accumulated, unabated.
"We can't keep her standing there," said Mom.
"At last!", Bella thought. A little help.
"She's going to make a mess on the carpet."
Daddy stood and turned. Bella's eyes stayed on her mom and brother, hoping to be left alone. She saw them not leaving. What she didn't see is that neither had her dad. Retrieving her panties from the top of the pile, he'd wadded them into a makeshift sponge. Thus she was surprised when he re-entered her peripheral vision. But not half as surprised as a moment later when cloth made contact!
"Ohhhh!" shrieked Bella in a prolonged rising voice.
If one didn’t know better, they might mistake it for a climax.
Never having witnessed her like this before, none of her family knew better.
Dad recoiled in horror. Mom couldn't complete a sentence, and got as far as "Did she just…" before fleeing the room. Even Preston's amusement gave way to shock.
"... Our own dad?"
Mr. Labet dropped the now-soiled underwear and turned away. His voice was defeated and confused as he issued a final order. "Go to your room, Bella. Get your clothes and go."
She stood and wanted to give a tear-laden explanation or apology, but found neither words nor audience. Panties were retrieved from the floor, other garments from the pile. And with her face now competing for the wettest body part, she left. Privacy at last, but far too late.
In truth, although Bella was no stranger to masturbation, she found it hard to climax. Most of the time she just didn't get there. Certainly she hadn't achieved one so quickly in the living room corner. But the even more awful truth is that with nothing to do but relive her embarrassment, she would now. Twice.
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