What We Inherited

I woke first.

Dad’s arms had loosened during the night. They no longer locked me against his chest. His breathing was deep and even against the back of my neck. Between my legs I still felt him, his cock softened but not fully soft, still resting inside my stretched asshole.

I stayed completely still for a long minute, listening. He didn’t stir.

Moving as carefully as I could, I braced one hand on the mattress and began to lift myself off him. The thick length dragged along my sore rim as it left me. Even halfsoft it was still big enough to make me bite my lip against a sound. When the head finally slipped free, a warm rush of cum followed it out of me and ran down the inside of my thigh. I froze again. He only made a low noise in his sleep and shifted slightly.

I eased off the bed.

In the bathroom I wet a clean washcloth with warm water. My reflection looked wrecked, hair matted, lips swollen, faint bruises already showing on my hips and thighs. I went back to the bedroom and, with the lightest possible touch, cleaned his cock and the mess of dried cum and slick on his stomach and thighs. I wiped his balls carefully. He never woke. When I finished he looked almost normal, like he had a fitful night and some wet dreams.

I returned to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and pushed. Thick clumps of cum slipped out of my pussy into the water. I kept going until only thin, cloudy fluid remained. Then I tried to do the same for my ass.

Nothing came out but a trickle of what he had left in me.

I reached back with two fingers and felt inside. My rim was still soft and open from the night. Deeper, I could feel only slick walls and the residual heat of his cum. The plug was nowhere I could reach. It had been pushed too high. It was still inside me, somewhere past my fingers.

A cold spike of panic cut through the exhaustion.

I sat there on the toilet with my heart beating too fast, realizing the small soft toy I had put in to protect myself was now lost deep in my own ass.

I couldn’t go to the emergency room. There was no version of that conversation that didn’t end with questions I could never answer. How did a butt plug get that deep? Who had been fucking me hard enough to shove it there? Why was I full of cum in both holes? Any doctor would take one look and start making calls.

I stood in the bathroom with both hands braced on the sink and forced myself to think.

Uncle Rob and Aunt Denise lived less than ten minutes away. Denise had married into it. Rob would already be at work. Denise was usually home in the mornings.

She was the only person close enough and safe enough to risk.

I didn’t want to tell her the truth. I didn’t want to tell her anything. But the plug was still inside me, higher than my own fingers could reach, and every hour that passed made the whole situation more dangerous. Infection. Damage. Questions later if I waited too long and had no choice but the hospital.

I cleaned up as best I could, pulled on loose clothes that wouldn’t press against anything sore, and grabbed my keys.

Denise was going to have to help me. There was no one else.

I knocked too hard.

Aunt Denise opened the door in a pair of old jeans and a faded Tshirt, hair still messy from sleep. The second she saw my face her expression changed.

“Laura? Honey, what’s wrong?”

I stepped inside before she could finish the question and closed the door behind me. My voice came out higher than I wanted.

“I need help. I lost something. Inside me.”

She blinked. “What do you mean you lost something?”

“A toy.” The word felt filthy in the quiet kitchen. “A butt plug. It’s stuck. I can’t get it out.”

Denise actually took a step back. Her hands came up like she could physically stop the conversation.

“Okay—no. Laura, we are not talking about this. You need a doctor.”

“I can’t go to a doctor.”

“Yes, you can. That’s exactly what the ER is for.”

“I can’t.” My throat tightened. I could hear how desperate I sounded and I hated it. “Please. Just listen. I started seeing someone. It’s new. Last night things got… carried away. He was rough and the toy got pushed too far and now I can’t reach it. If I go to the hospital they’re going to ask a hundred questions and I don’t want anyone knowing about this. Especially not Dad. Not right now. Not after Mom.”

Denise’s face had gone red. She looked toward the hallway like she expected Uncle Rob to appear even though we both knew he was at work.

“This is insane,” she said. “I’m not a nurse. What if I hurt you? What if it’s really stuck and I make it worse?”

“You won’t. I just need someone to help me try. Please, Aunt Denise. I’m scared and I don’t have anyone else I can ask.”

She stared at me for a long time. I watched the fight happen behind her eyes, discomfort, worry, the instinct to shut this down, and the fact that I was standing in her kitchen looking like I was about to fall apart.

Finally she let out a shaky breath and dragged one hand down her face.

“Christ, Laura.” Another pause. “Okay. Okay, fine. We’ll try. But the second it feels wrong or too deep, we’re done and I’m driving you to the hospital myself. Understood?”

I nodded too fast. “Understood.”

She still looked like she wanted to change her mind, but she pointed toward the hallway.

“Bathroom. Now. Before I realize how bad of an idea this is.”

Denise locked the bathroom door even though we were the only two people in the house.

“Okay. Pants need to come off,” she said. Her voice had gone tight and practical, the way people sound when they’re trying not to think too hard about what they’re doing. Next she put a towel on the floor and pointed. “On the towel. I need room to work.”

I did what she told me. The towel was thin under my knees. I ended up on all fours first because I couldn’t stand the idea of looking at her face while this happened. Cool air touched the wet, swollen mess between my legs. I already knew how bad it looked. Cum had dried in sticky patches on my inner thighs. My asshole still felt soft and open from the night.

Denise knelt behind me. I heard her open a bottle of something, lube, probably from her bedroom. The liquid was cold when it dripped between my cheeks.

“I’m starting with two fingers,” she said. “Breathe.”

She pushed in.

The stretch was nothing compared to my father’s cock, but the angle and the fact that it was her made my stomach flip. Her fingers slid through the slick mess of leftover cum easily at first, then met resistance deeper in. She worked in slow circles, searching.

“I can feel a lot of… fluid,” she muttered. “Jesus, Laura.”

“I know.”

She went to three fingers. The pressure increased. I bit the inside of my cheek and stared at the white tile.

“It’s in there,” Denise said. Her voice had changed. “I’m going to need more of my hand.”

I nodded against my forearms.

She folded her thumb and pushed. The widest part of her hand stretched me open with a slow, relentless burn. Cum made everything slippery. Each time she advanced I felt it deeper in my stomach. My thighs started to shake.

“Talk to me. Does it hurt?”

“It’s intense. Keep going.”

She did. I felt her reach the soft, deeper part of me where the plug had been shoved. Her fingertips brushed something that wasn’t me. The contact sent a sharp jolt straight through my core. My pussy clenched hard around nothing and a fresh rush of wetness slipped out of me.

Denise froze.

“Did you just—”

“Don’t stop,” I said too quickly. My face was burning. “Please. I think you almost had it.”

She was quiet for a second. Then she adjusted her position, braced her other hand on my lower back, and pushed deeper. I felt her hand begin to slide deeper. The fullness was overwhelming. Thick. Living. My breath came in short, shaky pulls. Every small movement of her hand made my empty pussy throb. I was getting wetter by the second and there was no way to hide it. The sound alone was filthy.

“Laura,” she said, and her voice had gone lower. “You’re uh...”

“I can’t help it.”

“I know. Just… stay still.”

She was breathing harder too. I could feel it in the small tremors of her hand. The clinical distance she had started with was cracking. When her fingers finally closed around the soft base of the plug, both of us made a sound at the same time—mine a broken moan, hers a short, startled exhale.

“I’ve got it,” she whispered. “It’s slick as hell. I’m going to try to pull it back.”

The first attempt failed. The plug slipped out of her grip and shifted. I whimpered. Denise cursed under her breath and went after it. My arms gave out. I dropped to my elbows, forehead against the towel, ass still raised for her.

“I can’t,” she said suddenly. Panic edged into her voice. “This is too deep. We need to go to the hospital. Right now.”

“No.” The word came out raw. “You’re so close. Please, Denise. Don’t stop. I can take it. Just get it out.”

She hesitated. I felt the war in the way her hand trembled inside me. Then she steeled herself and reached one more time.

The moments that followed blurred into pure sensation. Her hand working deeper than any hand was supposed to go. The soft plug finally caught between her fingers. The slow, careful drag backward as she began to extract both her hand and the toy together. My rim stretched wide around her wrist, then the base of her hand. The stimulation was constant and merciless. My clit throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I was dripping down my own thighs onto the towel.

“Almost there,” she said, and she sounded wrecked. “Just a little more—”

The widest part of her hand and the base of the plug reached my rim at the same time. The stretch peaked. My whole body locked up. A sharp, helpless cry tore out of me as the pressure broke and everything came free in one long, filthy slide, her hand, the plug, and a rush of cum that had been trapped behind it.

The sudden emptiness and the raw stimulation slammed into me at once. My pussy clenched hard and I squirted in a short, involuntary pulse that caught her forearm and wrist in a warm splash.

Silence filled the bathroom except for both of us trying to catch our breath.

I stayed where I was, shaking, forehead pressed to the wet towel. Denise was still on her knees behind me, the small soft plug in her messy hand, my release dripping down her skin. Neither of us spoke for a long time.

Finally she cleared her throat.

“It’s out,” she said quietly. “It’s out.”

I stayed on the floor longer than I should have.

My legs didn’t want to work. The towel under me was a lost cause—wet with lube, cum, and what I had just done on her arm. Denise sat back on her heels, the small soft plug still in her hand like she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Both of us were breathing too hard. The bathroom felt smaller than it had five minutes ago.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Her voice sounded rough.

“Yeah.” I forced myself to sit up. Everything between my legs throbbed in a deep, used pulse. I couldn’t look at her face directly. “Thank you. I mean it.”

Denise let out a short, disbelieving laugh and set the plug on the edge of the sink like it might bite her.

“That was… we don’t talk about this. Ever. To anyone.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious, Laura. Not your dad. Not Rob. Not some friend. No one.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

I cleaned up as fast as I could with shaking hands, more toilet paper, a quick pass with a wet washcloth, clothes yanked back on. My panties were immediately a mess again. Denise washed her hands and arms twice at the sink without speaking. The silence between us was thick. Neither of us mentioned the way my body had reacted, or the way hers had, but it sat in the room anyway.

At the front door I paused.

“Thank you,” I said again. “Really.”

She only nodded. Her cheeks were still flushed. She looked like she wanted to say something else and then decided against it.

I left.

I was halfway down the driveway before I realized I had never taken the plug back. It was still sitting on her bathroom sink. The thought of turning around and asking for it made my stomach twist. I kept walking to the car, got in, and drove away with my heart beating too fast and the empty, freshly-stretched feeling in my ass reminding me of every second of what had just happened.

The plug was hers now. Whether either of us liked it or not.