Not Your Average Child's Play!

"Oh, Glenda..." Tiffany had barely even noticed. "Oh! Glenda!" She quickly leaped away from her mate, dressing herself as quickly as possible, Chucky, doing the same. "Oh...oh my God!" Tiffany went a bright shade of red, even Chucky's face had flushed a shade of deep red. "Uh...err...Glen...h-how long have you been there?" Glen found a strange feeling between the legs, much like that upon urination, but, somehow, not quite the same, as it felt, really good. "About...15 minutes." The child said, turning away. "Oh no. Glenda has seen everything!" Whispered Tiffany. "Okay, okay. Let's not panic." Whispered Chucky, face still rosy red. "Wh...what were you two doing?" Asked the child, highly curious. "Errm...nothing. Nothing Glen. Absolutely nothing." Chucky responded, face still a bright red. "It sure looked like you were doing something." Tiffany, being the more sensitive one, and naturally so, didn't want to hide the truth from her child. "Glenda, Honey...what you saw us doing, um...well, with your, condition...you may not, really..." Glen could tell she was getting upset, and decided to avoid it. Glen hated seeing her this way. "Oh...right." Glen faced away from them, now feeling rather awkward of this whole mess. "I had better get to the store." Tiffany said. "You're right, Tiff. The airline food shouldn't even be called food! That shit is disgusting!" Protested Chucky. "Makes me want to throw my fucking guts up just thinking about it." Chucky really didn't have anything on his mind about the food they served on the airborne automobiles, as much as purely disgusted by the fact his own son had walked in on their private and intimate mating session. Tiffany left without a word, face still a light pink as she left the room. "Dad...what were you and mom doing?" Chucky's face was still red, and it's intensity was growing as Glen asked him this question. "Uh...it's an, an adult thing, Glen." "But, so is killing...isn't it? You and mom would kill, but she always said I shouldn't. Then you would take me out on those, awful killing sprees." Glen's face went pale recalling it. "You've lied to mom before...and...and you've taken me out for killing, which is something for adults...right?" Glen knew this couldn't be too horrid of an event, that strange bizarre, yet exciting sensation between the legs, surely didn't feel like too bad of a thing! Chucky couldn't ignore that. He had indeed lied to his wife, and had done things with Glen that he knew his wife wouldn't approve of. Chucky was quick to give in. "Alright. Son...when a boy, falls in love with a girl...or vise versa...they, err...well, first comes love, then comes marriage...then..." Chucky took a pause and looked into the eyes of his son. "...then comes the baby...i, it, it's very complicated, son...well, it can be very simple to do, but..." He never had a chance to complete. "Where does the baby come from? Well, where did I come from?" Chucky's face went pink. "Uhhh...you came from...my wife's stomach." Glen's eyes brightened up. "Yes well, how did I get there? Did she...eat me?" The father realized he wasn't going to let up, and decided it would be better to tell his son the truth. "No son." The shade of blood red morphed to his ears, crawling down to his throat, making his neck heated with harsh embarrassment. "...Tiffany, and I..." He took in a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would calm his sheer heated humiliation. "...had sex."

"Oh...is that how I got there?" Glen became further anxious to hear his answer. "But...how did I get inside of her?" Chucky had to turn away to avoid the wild curiosity in his sons eyes. "If it is too much for you to tell me...well, maybe you wouldn't mind, showing me?" Chucky's eyes popped open wide, he even feared his eyes may leap out of his skull. "No fucking way!" He exclaimed, now starting to sweat. "No way! No how! I may be a cold hearted serial killer, but I do NOT support incest! Not one little bit!" "You don't have to support it dad. I just want to know." "No. No son! I'm no God damned child molester! I'd kill them all off if Tiff would let me! Fucking perverts! Scum of the whole damned world!" Chucky could hear his heart pounding, and could even swear his ears would burst from the blood flooding his head. "Well...no need to tell mom. This will be our little secret." Chucky felt his heart skip a beat. He was sent back in time, to their first ever killing spree together, as father and son. How could his own son use his very words against him, pelting his every nerve? "Excuse me son." "Where are you going?" "...Just gotta...gonna go...release some steam, son." Glen watched him, and noticed he had taken the knife. "Mom has told you that you shouldn't be killing. Wouldn't want her to find out, now would we?" Chucky gazed down upon the weapon, getting a strange feeling that his son was getting an idea. "If you don't show me...I may just have to tell mommy of your, stress relief killing!" Sighing, he finally came to agreement. "Fine! I'll show you, but, we have to be sure Tiffany doesn't know about it!" With that, he left without a word, just as Tiffany got home. "Hi there Sweetface. Where's Chucky?" "Shopping." "Funny. Now why would he go shopping on this kind of night?"

Tiffany hadn't been shopping so much for food, as she had been for...personal reasons. She had come packed with magazines, but enough food for the family. Glen caught sight of the covers on the paper materials she had purchased, and lit with a smile. This was the chance! Glen had noticed mommy was spending most of her time locked away in the opposite room, some strange sounds coming from beyond the doorway, giving Glen another odd feeling. She seemed to be moaning, sometimes screaming, but it never sounded like much of anything was wrong. Glen realized it must have been something good, really good, going by her constant positive praise and wording, many containing a "Chucky!" and "yes!". This only drew Glen more curious and adventurous of the new situation, and, it seemed she would never come out of the room, giving Glen the perfect opportunity to snatch one of her private materials, mainly meant for more looking than reading, taking one for her mate as well. Chucky finally came home, being sure to free himself of any blood cells upon him. "Chucky dear." Said an almost eerie voice from the wife. "Glen is asleep. We can...get back to business, Honey! I'll even be sure to lock the door." Chucky had no comment. "No comment. That's unusual of you, Chucky." "I just...had a hard time..." "Shopping." Tiffany finished. "What? Oh, that right. Shopping. Well, I couldn't let you get me turned on without proper protection." He said, holding up a small round rubber aid, just in case his wife asked him about his whereabouts that night. "And I got a little something for you too! It's your favorite magazine!" Tiffany sneered, eyeing the now slightly diminished stack of obscene paper readables. "Oh...it was here. I wonder where it went."