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Annachronism
Planetoid
- Joined
- Apr 30, 2015
What follows is pretty much an intro post; you can TL;DR it if you want.
"I didn't even know they still made paper maps, dad."
Anna was frustrated, but honestly, what the hell else was new? Nothing in the world ever seemed to be good enough for his daughter; her public school, the way he cooked, the things he tried to buy for her on birthdays or Christmas. She had been a rebel just for kicks now since she had turned twelve. Then again, that had been the same year that mom had died, so it wasn't as though things were a total mystery as to why his once playful, perky, smiling child had gradually replaced every color in her wardrobe with black and started staying out way past curfew no matter how many times that she'd been grounded. There was simply no escaping one another in a house that was too big for two, even if she slammed the door and stayed behind the jaunty keep out! sign for most of her high school career. As they said though, absence made the heart grow fonder?
Their phone calls had been a lot more pleasant than their face to face interactions had ever been, once she had actually started calling him on a regular basis about two months into her freshman year of college. At the very least, she made sure to check in once a week to make sure he was doing alright and give him the lowdown on how her collegiate career was going. Maybe it was guilt for how she had treated him for so long, being ungrateful not because she hated him but because some part of her resented growing up in a single-parent family; because she had been drinking and doing drugs way too often, way too young and now she was mostly sober (during the week) enough to realize that he was all she had, and she was all he had. She had even started retaliating his somewhat playful questions about whether or not she was dating anyone yet with the same question back at him. "You've had the house to yourself since August, please tell me you've at least screwed someone in it," she had teased him right back only to laugh at his admonishment that she shouldn't put it that way when he wasn't even putting it out there.
She set him up an online dating profile at Christmas break when she came home, even though he just sighed and shook his head about not ever being likely to use it. I mean -- technology wasn't something he was some doddering old fool about or anything like that, but her parents had married and conceived relatively late in their lives. He wasn't exactly a spring chicken either, regardless of how empty the nest was. And he definitely didn't seem to approve of her dodgy ".. a few someones," when asked once again if she was seeing anyone these days while they had a particularly lonely seeming Christmas dinner that year. "I'm being safe!" she promised. Things had felt better between them that week, but there had been something in the air that Anna felt like she was bracing for.
All that frustration came racing back right before New Years when he finally admitted he was selling the house. The house she'd grown up in. The house he'd lived with her mom in. The house she'd had every birthday in, until this February when she'd be off back at school again and miss celebrating it with him for the first time, probably getting his usual jewelry that she'd never wear in the mail rather than in a box wrapped up hopefully. Every conversation on the phone after that break was a more terse "Hock off all my childhood memories yet, dad?" sort of talk, even though she tried to temper it down after the first few mentions that she really wasn't being fair about it.
Look, Anna was an angry young woman for a lot of reasons, and she didn't always take it out on the right people or in the best ways. Sober on the school days didn't mean she wasn't still abusing sometimes, didn't mean she was on the right medication, didn't mean that she was taking care of herself or in the right headspace when she called her father a lot of the time. And the seeing a few someones thing, well, she had always had intimacy issues. That kind of thing happened when you got your boobs the same year your mama died and suddenly every man in the world seemed to think that a preteen was ready to be cat-called on the sidewalk, and the oldest boy in your grade could get slapped on the wrist for just "playing around" on the scariest day of her life where thank god nothing actually ended up happening and he decided you were "too much trouble" anyway. She had problems with men, is the thing. Long term relationships? Not for her. If anything, her dad refusing to remarry or even date and always treating her kindly even when she was a shitty little bitch to him kinda put an unrealistic standard out for her that she was still always keeping her eyes open for.
All in all, it was no surprise that as she sped in her 2003 corolla beater through what felt like an absolute wasteland in the Sevier desert up I-15 from 70 and tried to follow the highlighter on the map he'd sent her again -- thankful that both there was almost nobody else on the road while she tried to deal with the stupid thing and that at least there weren't a lot of twists and turns -- she was angry at him again when she was really just angry at the circumstances. Driving all the way to some no place, no where town called Stepford Lake was a hell of a worse drive back from school for the summer than she had endured during Christmas. When she finally saw the titular lake, her reaction was mostly relief. "Do you mean Sevier Lake, dad?" she had tried to clarify more than once when googling the place, but he had been certain that wasn't the right body of water or city.
I mean, it's not like the place looked new. Shiny and well maintained as though it was new and somebody still cared about it sure, but not actually new in any traditional sense. Her car actually felt spiffy and high tech compared to some of what she saw once she got off the highway and drove into the most green she'd seen all day driving, plenty of clear agriculture and aquifer work having gone into making sure the lake made the surrounding desert area thrive compared to the nothing, nothing, nothing she had just driven through. How her dad had even found this place was beyond Anna's comprehension, but she got it a little bit once she arrived. It wasn't like he'd been a kid in the fifties, he wasn't that old, but he had grown up on Leave it to Beaver and stuff like that, so he must've found something to like about it. And now he'd found a whole damn place to like about it. It reminded her of when he'd showed her Back to the Future, not really getting it the same way he had since she hadn't lived through either of the time periods. The car was literally barely younger than she was.
Snuffing out her cigarette in her overflowing make-shift ash tray in the cup holder of her car, Anna parked her ostentatiously out of place beater and rolled the windows back up, thankful she wouldn't need the map to get out of here again since GPS could get her back to school after another thirteen-freaking-hour drive once August rolled back around. Still, for May in the middle of the desert, it wasn't as hot as she'd been expecting.
Still way too hot as balls to justify wearing black leather or even black denim, but goddamnit if she was gonna sacrifice style for comfort.
His house was much smaller than the one she'd grown up in, that was for sure. A quaint little one-story, two bedroom rather than the two-story practical mansion she'd lived in, the kind that said that mom and dad had expected to have at least one or two more kids and been bought with bubble economy money. This fit a lot better, she figured. And in a town that looked this .. nice, right down to the Norman Rockwell-esque WELCOME TO STEPFORD LAKE! painting that was the town's introductory billboard, maybe he could even finally find a nice girl. The stretch from New Years to the end of the semester had somehow felt even longer than from August to Christmas had, but maybe that's because she finally felt like they'd get to spend time together this time. Even if it was somewhere totally new and weird.
"Dad? You ready to show me around the place?" she called out after knocking on the door and letting herself in; referring both to the new house and the town itself. Maybe he could make her understand why he'd uprooted himself so far away. Especially when it was exactly the kind of place his punk-y twenty year old was going to absolutely hate on the surface of it all, even if she could admit to its general niceness vibe. Still, love it or hate it, it was only three months; she was going to owe that to her dad, and it didn't matter where he was or she was as long as they got to spend some time together again. She was going to make sure he was eating something better than his own terrible cooking, make sure he wasn't falling off his exercise routine for the millionth time, make sure he was actually trying to hook up with some kind of updo'd honey if he was gonna move all the way out here for a fresh start, that kind of thing. He got under her skin, she got under his, but he was her dad and she loved him; she wanted him to have the best of everything, the way he tried to give to her even when she was admittedly ungrateful about things.
So hello! This is, simply enough in service of a more focused version of my usual-these-days thing, a happy(?) little brainwashing incest-plot. Anna's a liberal listless layabout with a subscription worth of issues; her dad's an old-fashioned conservative empty nester who's living out his mid-life crisis;they fight crime!
I'm happy to pick things up from here or consider some variations if you wanna twist things up, but the basic idea of the estranged father and daughter getting closer -- a lot closer -- in a town with a particular view of femininity is the whole thrust of things. If you're reading this and somehow not familiar with the general vibe or concept of the Stepford Wives, well, long story short they literally replace their women with obedient robots. Stepford Lake isn't quite into bionics, but they do like to enforce certain expectations and rules about how women behave and they have the means to do so. There's something in the water, there's something in the air, and if you spend enough time around town you might just feel like you've found the right place for you.
Here's some general rules of thumb and things I like (or, you know, a kinklist, whatever):
PM me and shit.
"I didn't even know they still made paper maps, dad."
Anna was frustrated, but honestly, what the hell else was new? Nothing in the world ever seemed to be good enough for his daughter; her public school, the way he cooked, the things he tried to buy for her on birthdays or Christmas. She had been a rebel just for kicks now since she had turned twelve. Then again, that had been the same year that mom had died, so it wasn't as though things were a total mystery as to why his once playful, perky, smiling child had gradually replaced every color in her wardrobe with black and started staying out way past curfew no matter how many times that she'd been grounded. There was simply no escaping one another in a house that was too big for two, even if she slammed the door and stayed behind the jaunty keep out! sign for most of her high school career. As they said though, absence made the heart grow fonder?
Their phone calls had been a lot more pleasant than their face to face interactions had ever been, once she had actually started calling him on a regular basis about two months into her freshman year of college. At the very least, she made sure to check in once a week to make sure he was doing alright and give him the lowdown on how her collegiate career was going. Maybe it was guilt for how she had treated him for so long, being ungrateful not because she hated him but because some part of her resented growing up in a single-parent family; because she had been drinking and doing drugs way too often, way too young and now she was mostly sober (during the week) enough to realize that he was all she had, and she was all he had. She had even started retaliating his somewhat playful questions about whether or not she was dating anyone yet with the same question back at him. "You've had the house to yourself since August, please tell me you've at least screwed someone in it," she had teased him right back only to laugh at his admonishment that she shouldn't put it that way when he wasn't even putting it out there.
She set him up an online dating profile at Christmas break when she came home, even though he just sighed and shook his head about not ever being likely to use it. I mean -- technology wasn't something he was some doddering old fool about or anything like that, but her parents had married and conceived relatively late in their lives. He wasn't exactly a spring chicken either, regardless of how empty the nest was. And he definitely didn't seem to approve of her dodgy ".. a few someones," when asked once again if she was seeing anyone these days while they had a particularly lonely seeming Christmas dinner that year. "I'm being safe!" she promised. Things had felt better between them that week, but there had been something in the air that Anna felt like she was bracing for.
All that frustration came racing back right before New Years when he finally admitted he was selling the house. The house she'd grown up in. The house he'd lived with her mom in. The house she'd had every birthday in, until this February when she'd be off back at school again and miss celebrating it with him for the first time, probably getting his usual jewelry that she'd never wear in the mail rather than in a box wrapped up hopefully. Every conversation on the phone after that break was a more terse "Hock off all my childhood memories yet, dad?" sort of talk, even though she tried to temper it down after the first few mentions that she really wasn't being fair about it.
Look, Anna was an angry young woman for a lot of reasons, and she didn't always take it out on the right people or in the best ways. Sober on the school days didn't mean she wasn't still abusing sometimes, didn't mean she was on the right medication, didn't mean that she was taking care of herself or in the right headspace when she called her father a lot of the time. And the seeing a few someones thing, well, she had always had intimacy issues. That kind of thing happened when you got your boobs the same year your mama died and suddenly every man in the world seemed to think that a preteen was ready to be cat-called on the sidewalk, and the oldest boy in your grade could get slapped on the wrist for just "playing around" on the scariest day of her life where thank god nothing actually ended up happening and he decided you were "too much trouble" anyway. She had problems with men, is the thing. Long term relationships? Not for her. If anything, her dad refusing to remarry or even date and always treating her kindly even when she was a shitty little bitch to him kinda put an unrealistic standard out for her that she was still always keeping her eyes open for.
All in all, it was no surprise that as she sped in her 2003 corolla beater through what felt like an absolute wasteland in the Sevier desert up I-15 from 70 and tried to follow the highlighter on the map he'd sent her again -- thankful that both there was almost nobody else on the road while she tried to deal with the stupid thing and that at least there weren't a lot of twists and turns -- she was angry at him again when she was really just angry at the circumstances. Driving all the way to some no place, no where town called Stepford Lake was a hell of a worse drive back from school for the summer than she had endured during Christmas. When she finally saw the titular lake, her reaction was mostly relief. "Do you mean Sevier Lake, dad?" she had tried to clarify more than once when googling the place, but he had been certain that wasn't the right body of water or city.
I mean, it's not like the place looked new. Shiny and well maintained as though it was new and somebody still cared about it sure, but not actually new in any traditional sense. Her car actually felt spiffy and high tech compared to some of what she saw once she got off the highway and drove into the most green she'd seen all day driving, plenty of clear agriculture and aquifer work having gone into making sure the lake made the surrounding desert area thrive compared to the nothing, nothing, nothing she had just driven through. How her dad had even found this place was beyond Anna's comprehension, but she got it a little bit once she arrived. It wasn't like he'd been a kid in the fifties, he wasn't that old, but he had grown up on Leave it to Beaver and stuff like that, so he must've found something to like about it. And now he'd found a whole damn place to like about it. It reminded her of when he'd showed her Back to the Future, not really getting it the same way he had since she hadn't lived through either of the time periods. The car was literally barely younger than she was.
Snuffing out her cigarette in her overflowing make-shift ash tray in the cup holder of her car, Anna parked her ostentatiously out of place beater and rolled the windows back up, thankful she wouldn't need the map to get out of here again since GPS could get her back to school after another thirteen-freaking-hour drive once August rolled back around. Still, for May in the middle of the desert, it wasn't as hot as she'd been expecting.
Still way too hot as balls to justify wearing black leather or even black denim, but goddamnit if she was gonna sacrifice style for comfort.
His house was much smaller than the one she'd grown up in, that was for sure. A quaint little one-story, two bedroom rather than the two-story practical mansion she'd lived in, the kind that said that mom and dad had expected to have at least one or two more kids and been bought with bubble economy money. This fit a lot better, she figured. And in a town that looked this .. nice, right down to the Norman Rockwell-esque WELCOME TO STEPFORD LAKE! painting that was the town's introductory billboard, maybe he could even finally find a nice girl. The stretch from New Years to the end of the semester had somehow felt even longer than from August to Christmas had, but maybe that's because she finally felt like they'd get to spend time together this time. Even if it was somewhere totally new and weird.
"Dad? You ready to show me around the place?" she called out after knocking on the door and letting herself in; referring both to the new house and the town itself. Maybe he could make her understand why he'd uprooted himself so far away. Especially when it was exactly the kind of place his punk-y twenty year old was going to absolutely hate on the surface of it all, even if she could admit to its general niceness vibe. Still, love it or hate it, it was only three months; she was going to owe that to her dad, and it didn't matter where he was or she was as long as they got to spend some time together again. She was going to make sure he was eating something better than his own terrible cooking, make sure he wasn't falling off his exercise routine for the millionth time, make sure he was actually trying to hook up with some kind of updo'd honey if he was gonna move all the way out here for a fresh start, that kind of thing. He got under her skin, she got under his, but he was her dad and she loved him; she wanted him to have the best of everything, the way he tried to give to her even when she was admittedly ungrateful about things.
So hello! This is, simply enough in service of a more focused version of my usual-these-days thing, a happy(?) little brainwashing incest-plot. Anna's a liberal listless layabout with a subscription worth of issues; her dad's an old-fashioned conservative empty nester who's living out his mid-life crisis;
I'm happy to pick things up from here or consider some variations if you wanna twist things up, but the basic idea of the estranged father and daughter getting closer -- a lot closer -- in a town with a particular view of femininity is the whole thrust of things. If you're reading this and somehow not familiar with the general vibe or concept of the Stepford Wives, well, long story short they literally replace their women with obedient robots. Stepford Lake isn't quite into bionics, but they do like to enforce certain expectations and rules about how women behave and they have the means to do so. There's something in the water, there's something in the air, and if you spend enough time around town you might just feel like you've found the right place for you.
Here's some general rules of thumb and things I like (or, you know, a kinklist, whatever):
- Incest: Yeah, the daddy-daughter thing works for me, obviously, I'm a cliche.
- Brainwashing and Bimboization: The only escape from Stepford is leaving town, and the longer Anna sticks around, the more she's going to fall into line.
- Retro-Femininity: This can also be you know, straight up misogyny -- but the men in town don't have to be hateful about it, they just know what a woman's place is. That's doing the chores, doing the cooking, and doing their men.
- Dressing the Part: Women in Stepford Lake favor the classics. Sun dresses and aprons, high heels and make-up, absolutely no underwear, the classics! You're never fully dressed without a smile, but sometimes you don't need much more.
- Silver Fox: Daddy ain't exactly a young man anymore; maybe he's keeping it tight or letting it go, but gray's just another stage in life.
- Good genetics: Anna's stacked, daddy's hung, they got the good stuff in their gene pool.
- Pet Names: Princess, Sweetheart, Babygirl, Kitten, Honey, nngf.
- Daddy Knows Best: Dad's been in Stepford Lake long enough to more or less understand how the town works. He knows pretty much what inviting Anna is gonna lead to. Maybe he feels kinda guilty about it, maybe he doesn't. This is where I ain't totally dictating your character: he might think this is best for him, best for them, best for her, or he might be a bit on the crueler end of the spectrum and "finally putting her in her place" kinda stuff. I lean a bit more toward the former, but well ... daddy knows best, right daddy?
- Subverting Story Expectations: I mean, the story here is Anna visits, gets sucked into town, and starts sucking her dad off. I'm not necessarily throwing this scene out to NOT do that. But if you really wanna dig into some town-conspiracies or play around with some ebb and flow and pushback we can talk it over.
- Let's not: Rimming, scat, mommies, feet licking, lack of hygiene, step-daddy, extreme bondage, thongs, sex toys, blueberry pie
- Blueberry pie's not a sex thing, her apple pie just tastes way better
PM me and shit.
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