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Subject: {ASSM} "An Incest Carol" Ch. 5 (final) a take-off of C. Dickens' tale
Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2003 07:10:05 -0500
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Disclaimer: 

The following story is in no way intended to be a faithful adaptation of
the classic story by Charles Dickens. Only in my perverted mind do these
events and circumstances exist. But upon watching the classic story on
Christmas Eve (last night) I felt compelled to write my own version of
the timeless classic. Granted, things had to be slightly skewed and
warped to fit my 
intentions, but the overall aspect is hopefully achieved. It is my
Christmas Present to all the readers of this newsgroup. Please enjoy and
Happy Holidays to all. 

Author's Note: 

Since the story takes place in the early 1800s London, descriptions of
clothing, places, language and such will reflect such a time. Things
such as AIDS, safe sex, morals and 
plausabiltiy have not yet come into being so deal with it. Thank you for
your time. 

Additional Note: (new) 

Some parts of the chapters will contain no sex and are merely just part
of the classic tale in order to keep the narrative feel of the story. 



"An Incest Carol"             by kids_at_play 

A Parody (my apologies to Mr. C. Dickens) 

Story Codes for the entire story: 

(mf, Mf, Fb, MF, inc cons, mast, oral, preg, bizarre twist) 


Story Codes for Chapter Five: 

(MF, inc cons, sex, mast, bizarre twist) 


And now, the conclusion of:  An Incest Carol


Chapter Five


Scrooge walked back over to his bed. He pulled at the ornate bedcurtains
hanging around the upper rails and felt them in his hands. The feel of
the heavy material comforted him. They were not torn down around his
dead body. They had not been pawned for half a crown or more. And then
Scrooge touched his own nightshirt. It was still on him! It had not been
taken off of him as he lie there on the bed, dead as a doornail. Just as
old Marley had been those seven Christmases ago. Scrooge was alive! 

And alive he indeed felt! Scrooge began dancing around his bedroom, as
limber as a young man. His joints all felt like rubber and he felt no
pain nor discomfort as his body moved in paths and ways that he hadn't
moved in years. 
Scrooge went to each part of his bedroom and touched all the objects
that Marley had passed by on his visit with Scrooge. He paused at the
door where Marley had entered without using a key to open the door. Or
without even having to open all the locks. 

And then Scrooge went to the window where Marley disappeared out of and
that was when he pondered whether the Spirits had done it all in one
night. He was quite anxious to know what day it was. Quite anxious
indeed! 

He spied a young lad walking alone along the snow-covered lane below his
window. Scrooge threw up the window and stuck his white-haired head out
of it. The cold air did nothing to diminish his glee. 

"You there, boy! I say, you there!" Scrooge yelled down to the lad. 

The lad stopped mid-pace and looked up towards the sound of the voice.
He saw that it was Mr. Scrooge and he knew all-too-well what kind of a
man Mr. Scrooge was so he thought it best to be polite. 

"Who, me?" the young lad said. 

"Yes, you!" Scrooge replied, momentarily laughing for no apparent
reason. 

After quieting his laughing fit, Scrooge continued in earnest. 

"Can you tell me, my stout lad, what day it is today?" 

"Wot day?" the boy asked, warily. 

"Yes, what day?" 

"Why, it's Christmas day," the lad replied, unsure as to Scrooge's right
frame of mind. 

"They've done it, after all," Scrooge remarked aloud, not caring who
heard him.  "They've done it all in one night! I haven't missed it! I
haven't!" 

The lad began walking again but Scrooge halted him by saying, 

"I say, do you know the poulturer's in the next street but one?" 

"I sure do!" the lad exclaimed. 

"A fine boy, a bright boy," Scrooge said to no one in particular. 

"Well then, can you tell me, my fine lad, if they've sold the
prize-winning turkey that was hanging in the window yet?" 

"Wot? The one as big as me?" the lad asked. 

"A delighful boy," Scrooge said again. 

"Yes, that one! Have they sold it?" 

"Nah, it's still hanging there!" 

"Good! Go and buy it for me, my lad!" 

"Walk-er!" the young lad said, thinking the old man had gone off his
rocker for good. 

And the lad began walking away. But Scrooge, not dismayed nor deterred,
called back after him. 

"Tell you what, lad, you go and tell the butcher 
to bring the turkey back here to me and I'll give you a shilling! Come
back with him in less than five minutes and I'll give you half a crown!" 

The lad immedately brightened up and began running headstrong down the
street towards the poulterer's shop. 

"Ah, remarkable boy, and speedy, too!" 

Scrooge pulled his head back into the bedroom and ran over to a chest of
drawers. He began pulling drawers out, one after another, searching for
something. 

"I'll send it to Bob Cratchit," Scrooge began talking out loud. "He'll
never know where it came from! He'll never suspect it came from me! But
I must find a label. Label, label, label!" 
Scrooge found a label and wrote the name and address down on it. 

Bob Cratchit
2 Porter Street
Camdentown 

He chuckled to himself gleefully as he ran downstairs with the label and
threw open the front door of his home just in time to greet the
poulterer, along with the lad from the street. 
Scrooge gave the boy his half a crown and the poulterer the label and
money enough to take a cab and for the turkey, plus extra for the good
man's time. They both thanked Scrooge and were on their merry way. 

Scrooge ran back upstairs and commenced getting ready for he was going
to surprise his nephew and come to the dinner that Fred had invited him
to the day before. He only hoped that Fred would receive him now after
the way he had treated him. 

Scrooge hummed merrily to himself as he cleaned up, shaved, and then
dressed in his best finery, complete with silk scarf, walking cane and
top hat. Scrooge looked all of that befitting a wealthy man. He made off
down the street, passing others on their way doing business of the
Christmas day. He greeted each person kindly, offering a tip of his hat
to each. And while many were surprised to see Mr. Scrooge act this way,
some reconciled to the fact that Mr. Scrooge was no longer Mr. Scrooge. 

Scrooge stopped and gave money to the blind beggar. He gave a few coins
to the children singing noels on the corner. He even stopped to make a
donation to the church. 

Scrooge rounded the corner and came upon the street where his nephew's
home stood. He wandered up to the gates surrounding the stately abode.
He hesitated, as if unsure, but then the memory of the 3 ghosts took
hold and he vowed to see things through. 

He walked up the brickpath and rapped on the large oaken door. It was
opened by a pretty young maid, who held the door askance. 

"My dear, is the Master of the house in?" 

She nodded quietly. 

"May I see him?" Scrooge asked politely. 

She nodded mutely again and she opened the door further to allow him to
step inside the vestibule. She took Scrooge's hat and cane and coat and
she made to show him the way to the parlor but he stopped her saying, 

"It's all right, my dear. I know the way and he knows me." 

Scrooge headed for the parlor. He stood outside the closed doors and
listened to the frivolity and glee coming from within. He opened the
doors and stepped inside. 

The partygoers were enagaged in a lively chorus of "Barbara Allen" and
Scrooge spotted his nephew and his wife seated just in front of him.
They could not see Scrooge right away but the ones who were facing the
doors could and they stopped mid-song and then everyone turned around to
see what had happened to cease the singing. 

"Uncle Scrooge!" Fred cried out, his face lighting up like a Christmas
wreath. "As I live and breathe, it is you, Uncle Scrooge!' 

Fred came right over to Scrooge and clasped his hand, and then hugged
him to his body, embracing him tightly. 

"Fred," Scrooge said solemnly, "I wonder whether your invitation still
stands for me." 

"Still stands? Of course it does, Uncle! Welcome!" 

Scrooge accepted the welcome but he needed to speak to someone else. He
approached his nephew's wife and came right up to her. He looked into
her eyes and he thought he saw something familiar in them. 

She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled,
surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made
to be kissed -- as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about
her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the
sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature's head. 

Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but
satisfactory, too. Oh perfectly satisfactory! 

"Can you ever forgive a stubborn old man, who has neither the eyes to
see nor the brains to know how good you are for my nephew?" Scrooge
pleaded. 

"Oh, Uncle Ebenezer!" she cried, and hugged him, as well. 

Fred came over to them both and whispered in Scrooge's ear. Scrooge was
taken aback at first, but then he relaxed and nodded. He smiled
bountifully at his nephew's wife and they made the rest of the day
glorious. 

----------------------------------------------------------

After the festivities died down, and the other guests had gone home,
Scrooge, Fred and Fred's wife retired to the parlor once again.
After-dinner drinks were poured and they all sat snugly together on the
divan in front of the fireplace. 

"Now, Fred, what is it that you need so badly to tell me?" Scrooge
asked. 

"Look at us both, Belle and I," Fred told him. "Do we not look alike?" 

Scrooge looked at his nephew and his nephew's wife. They both had black
hair, much like his had been when he was younger. 
Scrooge could see something of his sister, Fan, in Fred's face. The nose
and the eyes, yes, that's it. Belle, Fred's wife, also had something of
a look to her. Something familiar to Scrooge. 
Belle was of course beautiful. Tonight she had her delicate black hair
done up in two braids on either side of her head, with white ribbons in
each. She wore a locket round her neck that looked quite quite familiar
to Scrooge. He gazed at it and then it hit him! But how? How could it
be? 

"Well, Uncle?" Fred asked. 

"I - I think, but - how?" 

And then Fred told Scrooge the truth. 
 
"It is as you think, Uncle," Fred started. "You can see it in Belle's
eyes, can't you? Oh, Uncle, I've longed to tell you this so much. Belle
is -- Belle is --" 

Fred faltered and then said, 

"Belle, maybe you'd better tell him." 

Fred's wife turned to face Scrooge and said to him plain as day, 

"Uncle Ebenezer, I am your daughter!" 

Scrooge froze in place. It WAS true! It was. 

"Alice Lidell was my mother," Belle continued. "Your brief relationship
with her resulted in a pregnancy, and she gave birth to me just after
you broke off your engagement." 

Now Fred offered his piece of mind. 

"She didn't tell you about the pregnancy because she was penniless and
she knew you'd never want to stay with a poor woman, especially one with
child. So she had Belle alone and raised her as your daughter. Many
years later Belle and I met, and through our courtship, we both learned
about each other's relationship to you, Uncle." 

Scrooge was flabbergasted. He didn't know what to say or do. A daughter.
A daughter he never knew he had. Scrooge knew what he must do. 

"Fred, there's something I must tell you now," Scrooge intoned
seriously. "You are not my nephew, you are my son!" 

Now it was Fred's turn to be flabbergasted. 

"Your mother, Fan, my sister, gave birth to our baby, Fan's and mine. I
slept with my sister Fan and made her pregnant. She died giving birth to
you. So, in essence, you married your sister, or rather, half-sister.
And not even knowing it, either." 

All three family members sat there distilling in this new information.
Scrooge was their father, and Fred and Belle were his children. And
incest was their legacy. 

"After your mother died, Fred, I gave up everything and devoted my life
to my work. I eschewed incest as a way of life, even though my family
has always practiced it. Now, I have seen what was, what is, and what
could be by the intervention of three spirits. What I wish for now is
for us to remain a family, a close family. 
If that's all right with you two?" 

Fred looked at Belle, his half-sister and his wife. She looked at him.
They both looked at Scrooge. 

"Father!" Fred cried, and hugged Scrooge tightly. 

"Father!" Belle chimed in, clasping Scrooge around his neck and kissing
him on the cheek. 

Scrooge could feel his daughter's tightly-bound breasts pressing into
his arm as she hugged and kissed him. Belle was wearing a red ball gown
with white sleeves and a white bottom, along with white petticoats. The
top of her gown was very low-cut and the tops of her breasts stuck out
proudly. His daughter was amply endowed. Scrooge's mood was so high and
so merry now that his randier side began to come back as well, newly
invigorated by the revelations of the night. 

Scrooge's hands swept up and down the side's of his daughter's body,
skimming the gown's satiny material. He stopped at the sides of her
breasts, where he cupped them suddenly, squeezing them in his hands. 

"Father!" Belle cried out in surprise. "What do you mean by taking
liberties with me?" 

"Belle, my child, I need you. I want you. Here. Now," Scrooge said, and
adding emphasis he squeezed her ample globes again. 

Belle's hand drifted down to Scrooge's lap where she felt his member
growing hard. Her father seemed to possess a huge member. A huge member
indeed. 

"Fred?" Belle asked her husband/half-brother. 
"By all means," Fred agreed, settling down to watch the debauched scene
about to take place. 

Something about watching his father make love to his own daughter
excited Fred and as he watched the couple go at it he began to stroke
his own member through his slacks. 

Scrooge was now kissing the tops of his daughter's exposed breasts.
While he was doing that, Belle was busy undoing Scrooge's slacks and
reaching inside the opening and pulling out his prick. Once she had his
prick outside of his slacks, and as she fondled it, it grew even larger
and longer, until it stood full fold at a towering height. She guessed
it to be a good 9 inches in length, if not 10. Fred was 6 inches and
satisfied her completely. She could only imagine what her father's rod
would do to her. 

As Scrooge and his daughter undressed one another, Fred opened his own
slacks and hauled out his prick, stroking it up and down in his lap. 

Once undressed, Belle mounted her father, Scrooge, sitting on his prick
until it buried up inside of her. It filled her completely and she began
to ride it like a wild stallion. Her own father was fucking her! And she
loved it! 

Faster and faster Belle rode her father's prick until she suddenly felt
him let loose his seed into her with such a force that she thought her
father to keel over from a heart attack. But Scrooge was all right, and
he spewed his seed into his daughter until he was empty. 

At the same time, Fred's own prick erupted, sending his seed spewing
into the air and landing on his slacks. To the dry cleaner they will
have to go. 

All three of them were spent, and they fell asleep as one. One family.
 From then on they shall always be a family. 

---------------------------------------------- 

Scrooge looked up at the clock and grimaced. Or at least he tried to
grimace. But the grimace turned into a smile which turned into giggles
which turned into uncontrollable laughter. But he wanted to paint an
angry face for his clerk, Bob Crachit. So he practiced his grimace
again. And again. Hopefully he'd get it right. 

At about a quarter past the hour Bob Cratchit walked into the business
of Scrooge and Marley, quietly placing his coat and scarf on the pegs on
the wall so as not to alert Mr. Scrooge of his late arrival. As he crept
past the open door of Scrooge's office, he heard Mr. Scrooge's voice
booming out to him. 

"Mr. Cratchit! My office! At once!" 

Bob Cratchit walked meekly into Scrooge's office. He stood in front of
the old miser's desk 
shivering not only from the cold but also from the fear. 

"What do you mean by coming in at this time?" Scrooge said as meanly as
he could, his head down so as not to give himself away to his clerk. 

"I'm sorry, sir, I am past my time," Bob said remorsefully, "but I was
making rather merry with my family yesterday and got behind my time, I
did. It won't happen again, sir." 

"No, it won't," Scrooge opined grumpily. "And to make sure it won't
happen again, I have no recourse but to --" 

Scrooge hesitated to allow his clerk to think the worst before
continuing. 

"-- to raise your salary! Yes, my dear boy, I'm going to raise your
salary!" 

Bob Cratchit just stood there staring at Scrooge as he had gone mad.
Scrooge noticed this and added, 

"No, Bob, I haven't lost my mind. I've come to it. And I'd like to help
you with your family, sir, if you'll let me. We -- we'll talk it over
over a bowl of hot punch later on, shall we?" 

Bob Cratchit was stunned so all he could do was nod his head yes. 

"Now, Bob, me boy, you go right out and buy another coal scuttle! Yes,
you do that before you dot another I, you do! Now go!" 

Bob left the office and grabbed his coat and scarf and made to buy
another scuttle. And more coal. 

Scrooge sat at his desk laughing maniacally. Oh, he was so happy. He was
ecstatic. He was saved. 

---------------------------------------------- 

And old Scrooge was good to his word. He became like a second father to
Tiny Tim, who not only didn't die but was cured and able to walk and run
again like any young boy. Scrooge became a good and kind master and
became the best friend any old town had ever seen. 


The End 


I suppose no one will comment on this story either so why bother with
all the usual conduits.
But, I've got this story finished after four years.
That should mean something.  No?  Then so be it.  Here it is.  It is
what it is and nothing more.
Back to work on "First Daughter".   KAP



"Well I'm a grown man and as strong as I am, well sometimes it's hard to
believe; that one little girl with little blonde curls can totally
terrify me."  (Gary Allan)


"Thank Heaven for little girls!"  (Maurice Chevalier)
 
"Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart?" (Lovin' Spoonful -- 
1965) 

"We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the
heart too big for the body."   (Ralph Waldo Emerson) 

"He who cannot see the beauty of a child hath no beauty in him."    
(Anon) 

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."
John Keats,   "Endymion"     1818 

Kids are our future. Kids are our hope. Please respect them. Don't
exploit them. 

kids_at_play 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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