The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I woke Sunday morning after a fitful and dreamless sleep. The first thing I noticed was the pain. Had I been drinking? My head hurt like I had been on the mother of all benders, and the morning sun seared my eyes closed. I tried again to force them open, but the room swam around me.

The bed beside me was warm, and the touch of Emily’s bare form eased the pain. I couldn’t remember what we had done last night, and that bothered me, but all was well so long as I woke beside her.

“I love you,” I whispered as I pulled her closer.

She pressed back sleepily, rubbing herself against me as my arms wrapped around. So easy to find her breast in my hand, the scent of her hair in my face. Had she changed products? It smelled different today. Tantalizingly familiar, but not her usual.

She let out a soft, sleepy moan of appreciation as my hands strayed lower. If only I could, I would have loved nothing more than to stay in bed with her all day. No such luck, I had things to do.

I made my way downstairs and straight to the fridge. A couple eggs, a bit of milk, and a stir of the whisk until they were smooth and creamy. My train of thought slipped away, and I must have stared at the frying pan for nearly five minutes before I came awake.

What was I doing again?

Oh. right, making Catherine breakfast in bed. The pan took a minute to warm up, so I began cutting all the slices into romantic heart shapes that I knew she would adore. Smiling in satisfaction, I set them on the pan and watched them sizzle.

Why was I making her breakfast in bed? My head was way too fuzzy, but this was important. Everything was moving on autopilot this morning, actions taken with out any understanding.

The shapes did look absolutely adorable, and I was proud of that, but everything about this was a terrible I idea. The absolute last thing I wanted was to encourage Catherine’s attentions, and that’s exactly what this would accomplish. I should have stopped there, but for some reason I didn’t. Or rather, I couldn’t. I couldn’t remember why, but knew that was very, very important I take care of this. I shook my head, trying to clear out the cobwebs, but it didn’t really help. Too early to think, just focus on preparing a nice, romantic breakfast for Catherine.

Romantic?

The thought slipped past before I could fully grasp hold. With each passing moment, the haze in my mind cleared, but it was still like trying to peep through a frosted windowpane. I could catch rough outlines, but detail seemed to elude me. Something was wrong, but without any understanding my worries slipped away.

Breakfast complete, I arranged everything nicely onto the tray. French toast, heavily slathered in thick maple syrup (Catherine’s favorite), a small bowl of fresh strawberries, and a glass of orange juice. It all looked tasty, and I was sure she’d love it, but there was something missing.

“Could use a few flowers or something,” I muttered, still barely than half awake, “Too bad I don’t have a rose, that would be really romantic.”

Romantic. Again with that word. That isn’t right. Why am I-

Actually, we did have roses, but I could’t just-

“This is a terrible idea,” I told myself as I stood beside Emily’s prize winning Rose bush. “If she finds out I cut one, she’s going to kill me.”

It would be so romantic, though, and breakfast didn’t wasn’t complete without one. It was so very important that Catherine love every bit of it. I should do whatever was necessary to make her happy.

Something hung just barely out of reach in my mind. Some all important memory that would explain everything if only I could grasp it, but I couldn’t.

Oh well, if it was really important, I’d remember sooner or later. For now, I had to bring this up to Catherine.

Why Catherine, though? Why her and not my beloved wife?

That was an important question, but I couldn’t remember why. I worked it over, puzzling it out as I slowly approached the door. Something was there, just on the cusp of realization, if only I could tease it out. I hadn’t made breakfast for my wife because, because....

Because she was still out of town.

“Good morning, daddy,” Catherine said, smiling as she sat up and let the covers fall to her waist.

Her face beamed innocently as she propped herself up in her bed. The bed, I now realized, where I had gone to sleep last night. The bed where I had woken this morning. Beside a woman who was not my wife.

Since when did I think of her as a woman?

Since yesterday. There was horror, the beginnings of a terrible memory that I could feel, but not quite grasp.

Remembered, and could do nothing about it.

“I brought you breakfast, sweetie,” I said, smiling as I handed her the tray.

No, no! Stop it, this is wrong! I railed against the memory, and against this strange compulsion, but I may as well have been swimming through a raging floodwater. So much easier to just sit back and let the current carry me where it would.

Our hands touched as she took the tray from mine, and I bent down to kiss her on the lips.

“That’s so sweet of you, daddy.”

She beamed at me, her face still lit with joy at seeing me. It warmed my heart to see her so happy. An immense surge of pride filled me, the satisfaction of brightening the day for someone I cared about, and the pride at a job well done. It was oh so very important to make Catherine happy, because-

Had I really just kissed her? What was wrong with me? I needed to stop this right now.

“Don’t look away from me, Daddy. Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore your girlfriend?”

I looked, I couldn’t help myself. There was something about her, something in her voice that just could not be denied. That was how I found myself once again staring at my stepdaughter’s tits. I’d meant to look away, or at least keep my eyes at her face, but they drew me in. Maybe it was the lure of the forbidden, or the way she kept sticking her chest out when she caught me looking. She knew. Somehow, she understood how powerless I was to look away, and was exploiting it for all it was worth.

They looked so soft and inviting. I stared openly at them, watching the morning sunlight paint lines of pure radiance across their curves. The sight of them filled my eyes, and a memory of their touch filled my thoughts. Heaven help me, a part of me wanted to touch them again. Distracted as I was, I could see only the faint curve of her lips, which twisted upwards in triumph as she surveyed my helpless admiration.

Why? Why couldn’t I look away from her? Then I remembered. I remembered everything.

“No!” I gasped, trying to deny the awful truth. “Tell me this is all just a dream. We didn’t, we couldn’t have—”

“Of course we did,” she giggled. “And you liked it. Didn’t you.”

“Yes, I loved it,” I said automatically.

Emily was going to kill me.

I shook my head, trying to clear away these stubborn influences.

“But that doesn’t matter,” I told her, “This is wrong. I’m your stepfather, not your boyfriend, and we can’t—“

“Shh...” she interrupted, “we can worry about that later. For now, let’s talk about where you’re taking me on our date.”

“Date?”

A sudden, sinking surge of horror burgeoned to life within me.

“Of course, silly,” she giggled again, “You are my boyfriend now, and boyfriends take their girlfriends out on romantic dates all the time!“

Smiling again, she tossed back her hair and ate another slice of her french toast. This was insane. Bad enough that I had touched her, that I had known her, there was no way I could go out with her. Not in public, where anyone might see us. I couldn’t let this continue, I had to find a way out.

The drug was weakening, or at least I thought it was. Her commands not quite as insistent as they had been yesterday, but I was still powerless to look away. Was I not trying hard enough? She did have a very lovely chest.

“First, we’re going shopping downtown. We can go to all the little boutiques down main street. Then we’ll eat at that totally cute bistro beside the park. Oh, I know! Then we can go to the zoo! Doesn’t that sound like fun, daddy?“

“Baby, this isn’t a good idea,” panicking, I tried to reason with her. “You know we can’t—”

“Oops,” she said with mock innocence as she dripped a trail of syrup down the front of her chest. “Could you clean that up for me, daddy?”

“Of course,” I said automatically, turning to go get a cloth.

“Where are you going?”

“To get a—”

“Don’t be silly, daddy! Look at it drip. Do you want it to get everywhere? Of course not. So hurry up and use your mouth..”

No matter how desperately I tried to resist, it was no use. Inch by helpless inch, my head lowered towards. My mouth watered ever so slightly, and I realized that some sick part of me was looking forward to this. She was Catherine, my wife’s daughter, but at the same time her breasts were lovely. At some level, I couldn’t help but want to touch them.

Then my mouth was on her. Licking, sucking, exploring my stepdaughter’s naked chest with my tongue. She tasted sweet and fleshy. The spilled syrup blending seamlessly with the natural flavors of her skin. Soft too, so soft. Incredibly warm and pliant.

I heard her breathing quicken as a small moan escaped her lips. Her mother’s breasts had always been sensitive, and apparently that trait had been passed down. I found myself nibbling at her skin, playing with her chest in the same way that always delighted her mother.

“Oh, just like that, Daddy,” she cried out between helpless moans. “but lower, just a little lower.”

The outside of my lips brushed against something small and raised, and just like that I was sucking my stepdaughter’s nipples.

“Yes, Daddy, Yes!” she screamed, “More! Harder! I need- Oh!”

My lips closed around it, sucking tight around her soft teen nipple. As my tongue swirled, I heard her cry out again in pleasure. If she was anything like her mother, she was now beyond words. My hands slipped under her waist, feeling her body shiver with need as I ran them up her sides. When had they joined in the action, I wasn’t even sure. There had been no command, no order to feel up her soft, slim body. It just felt right.

Her body arched back, crying out as hands and mouth brought her first orgasm of the day. It still felt right, touching, feeling, tasting her nubile body. Even though my head cried out to stop, I didn’t actually want to. My whole body was on fire now, and what I really wanted was to throw aside the last of her blankets and climb atop. Taking her not because she had told me to, but because I wanted it. Wanted to throw caution to the wind and claim this soft, willing female beneath me.

No!

I wouldn’t do it, I wasn’t so far gone as that. I may not be in control of my actions, but damn it all, that didn’t stop me from doing the right thing.

Forcing myself to pull away, I took a long step back from the bed. The hardest step I had ever taken. I could still see the marks my mouth had made on her luscious breasts, could all but taste them still. She murmured in complaint as my mouth left, but smiled dreamily and didn’t protest. Her fingers still worked slowly between her legs, and it took every ounce of self control I had not to stare at her bare, glistening pussy.

This was my chance. I had regained some small measure of self control. I should use it now. Leave, get away from her while I still could. And then...

Then what? I couldn’t just abandon my wife’s daughter. What could I do? Lock her inside her room, keep her prisoner all week? She had school Monday, and I certainly couldn’t keep her home sick all week. Run away? Leave her, leave everything behind and go... where?

Then the moment passed, and she opened her eyes.

“Mmm.... that was wonderful, daddy.”

With a sudden hop that sent her breasts shaking delightfully, she jumped up from the bed. Grabbing my hand, she started to pull me into the hallway. Towards the bathroom.

“Come on. We’ve got a big day, so we’d better hurry and get cleaned up.”

I took a few steps, and she sauntered past me, shaking her naked rear. Everything in me cried out to follow her, to savor the touch of her soft, young flesh as much as possible, but I knew it wasn’t right.

“Baby, I don’t think- No, I won’t.”

I stopped, surprised that I could, even if I still felt that pull urging me forward, but barely, just barely, I was able to resist it. She pouted, petulant and angered, and for a moment I thought she was going to order me again. I wasn’t sure if I could resist a second time.

“Fine,” she said, cocking her naked hips as she waggled her finger scoldingly. It wasn’t the only part of her that moved.

“Then go get ready for our date, and think about what you missed,” with a flourish, she swung her hips around and made her way to the bathroom. It was almost comical, how much she was trying to act mature, but given what had happened I was in no mood to laugh.

I left to dress, wanting to get myself into something more presentable than the ratty shorts and t-shirt I’d thrown on this morning. It bothered me, following her orders again, but I did my best to ignore that. Whatever happened next, I’d feel a whole lot better if I were dressed.

Hovering outside my closet for a long while, I agonized over which shirt to wear. I must have spent ten, maybe even fifteen minutes waffling between my two favorites, before I realized that I was trying to decide which one Catherine would like better.

Fuck it, the blue one then.

With a sudden burst of panic, I heard the water stop. Just a few minutes now, and there she would be. Outside my door, ready to begin whatever twisted plans she’d laid out for today. In a flash of inspiration, I locked the door and threw on a pair of old headphones I mostly kept around for the gym. The drug was fading, whatever it was. If I could just keep away for a few more hours, then I could...

What? I wasn’t sure. Should I punish her for this? How? What could I tell Emily when she got home? Maybe I should go to the hospital, get some blood work done. They’d believe me when traces of the drug turned up in my blood. Wouldn’t they?

Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure. I mean, I’d never heard of anything like this before. Where had it come from, how had she gotten her hands on it? Would it even show up in the lab report? What if it didn’t? What would people say when they found out I’d fucked my teenage stepdaughter?

My confidence draining by the minute, I lay my head in my hands and tried desperately to think of a way out of this. Lost in thought, I didn’t realize the door was open until I saw Catherine standing in front of me.

In one hand was a key. Of course she had one, why not? I wonder how many times she’d already snooped around our private space. Would we have even noticed? It’s not like we were paying close attention to the keys.

In her other hand...

“No!”

I tried to spring away, but Catherine had other ideas.

“Stay there, daddy,” she commanded, and I came to an uncomfortable realization. It was all well and good to resist her commands, to plant my feet and freeze in place. That I could do. Forcing myself to move against her orders was an entirely different story. I was so close. A little more time, a little more volition... it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to give me either.

Because in her left hand, slowly rising towards my face, I saw a small pile of light blue powder. I had seen it once before.

“Catherine, this is wrong. So wrong. You need to stop this.”

I tried to turn my head, but just a light touch on my chin forced it back. The hand level now, her outstretched arm extended towards my face. Trembling, I tried to move, to push her away and get out of here. The will was there, just out of reach. Just a few more minutes, an hour at most, and I might have resisted her, but here and now it proved useless.

“Don’t do this,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm even as I was scared out of my mind. Catherine laughed, like this was all some sort of pointless joke.

“In a few minutes everything will feel so much better. Don’t worry, I talked to Amanda. She says you don’t even need it after the first couple weeks. Soon you’ll be good all the time. Won’t that be great?”

I shook my head, trying to make her see what she was doing. How absurdly far she’d crossed the line here.

“Catherine, you can’t—”

“Breathe deep, daddy,” she said, shoving her hand under my nose. Before I could stop myself, I inhaled. Panicked, I tried to force it back out, but my head started spinning and I couldn’t remember why.

There was a face in front of me, a beautiful, smiling visage hovering just before my eyes. In the back of my mind, I knew that I should recognize her, but at the moment that was beyond me. All that mattered was staring into her deep, limitless eyes. She spoke, and her words were the most important thing I’d ever heard uttered.

“You love me, daddy. You’re my boyfriend, and I’m your girlfriend.”

That wasn’t true. A falsehood, striking a dissonant note in that otherwise angelic voice. Somehow, I knew the words she spoke were false. And yet... they didn’t have to be. They weren’t true yet, but I could make them be true. That would make her happy, and it was very important to be happy.

“You always want to make me happy,” she said. That was true. I already did, even before she said it. “I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. Even- no, especially prettier than mom.”

Another face came to mind, superimposed on the angel in front of me. Older, but no less beautiful. Who was she? Someone important, I knew that too. There was some connection between us, I knew that. Far less insistent than what I felt for the girl sitting on my lap, yet deeper and richer for it. The slow, pulsing rhythm of a deep ocean current, next to a swiftly rushing stream.

Emily

I shook my head, trying to shake away the cobwebs. It came back slowly, and in tattered pieces. Emily, my wife, and the love of my life. But it was Catherine’s body I felt pressed against me, and Catherine’s face just inches from mine. The powder hadn’t done all she’d hoped for, but it had done enough. Whatever resistance I’d possessed was long gone, and I knew that I would obey her unquestioningly.

“Do you understand, daddy?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

Whatever she’d tried, it wasn’t quite capable of altering my feelings for her, and for my wife. At least not yet. Who knew what limits this drug had. Whatever the case, I now felt compelled to act the part. She was in charge, and until the drug faded her word was law.

She smiled at my acceptance, and I was glad I could make her happy.

“Kiss me,” she said, and I obeyed.

Our lips met, bodies entwined. Romantic, soulful, and with just the right amount of tongue. I was treating her like the beloved girlfriend she wished to be, and she responded eagerly.

“Much better,” she said breathlessly after we broke our kiss.

No, it wasn’t, but I smiled and nodded. A good boyfriend would be happy after kissing his beloved? I did so very much want to please her.

“Now come on, daddy, or we’ll be late!”

Arm in arm, we strolled through the downtown streets, ogling every fancy boutique the town had to offer. Three times her excitement got the better of her, and we absolutely had to go inside. Each time, she swept through the racks like a kid tearing into the presents beneath an overstuffed christmas tree. Going absolutely wild over all the Totally Cute! outfits they sold.

Of course she had to model them for me.

This would have been so much easier had Catherine been plain. If I’d been able to bury any shred of attraction to the girl who came out primping and posing in the new designer clothing, coyly flashing leg and shoulder as she showed off for me. I would have felt much better if it were a lie when I told her how beautiful she looked.

For the most part, she simply tried the outfits on, but in the last store she found several that she absolutely needed. Wearing one of them (a strapless yellow sundress), she positively beamed as she approached the counter to loudly announce:

“My boyfriend’s buying these for me.”

I did my best to shrug off the cashier’s sudden scowl. It’s not my fault, I wanted to protest. I knew what they all thought, seeing someone my age with a girl barely into adulthood. If only they knew how little say I had.

As he rang up my card, I tried to figure out how I could possibly fit this trip into our budget. Maybe I could convince Emily to eat in for the rest of the month, and put off any major purchases a little while longer, and hopefully nothing would break in the meantime. The cost of the overpriced boutique outfits wasn’t quite ruinous, but it sure as hell was a major strain. If I had my way, I’d have said no in a heartbeat, and so would Emily.

Emily wasn’t here, unfortunately, and I was in no position to say refuse Catherine anything.

The dress suited her well, more than I wanted to admit. As we walked to lunch, I found my eyes constantly straying back and forth to sneak a quick look at her. Was that an order? Maybe? I couldn’t remember. It felt like I had to, but seemed far too enjoyable to be compulsory. This close, I had a fantastic view down the front of her dress, and I found her cleavage utterly fascinating.

Catherine was having a good time, practically skipping down the street as she clung tight to my hand. As if she were afraid to lose it at any moment. I didn’t try to pull away, and after a while stopped thinking about it. What was more natural, after all, than walking hand in hand with a pretty girl?

She was that. Whatever else you could say, Catherine was a very pretty girl.

The cafe Catherine wanted was right near the park entrance. One of those trendy places served up the same food as everywhere else, but charged twice as much for it. They were crowded, but Catherine had no problem strolling through the park as we waited for our table.

They sat us next to the street, right across from a wide, spraying fountain. On a day like today the park was crowded, filled with a steady stream of people flowing in and out. Couples sat on benches, whispering sweet affections as they watched the water tumble down the statuary. Mothers pushed strollers past, and a couple of screaming children splashed around in the water.

It was a lovely day. That first flowering of spring where you could lie back and almost pretend that it was summer. The weather wouldn’t last, but everyone was in a hurry to savor the day while it did. The women were out as well, their spring fashions in grand display. Catherine noticed too, stopping every minute or two to point at one and ask if they were prettier than her. I told her they weren’t, of course, and most of the time I didn’t even have to lie.

When had I started thinking of her as a beautiful woman instead of just Emily’s kid? Was it the drug working on me, or had it forced me to see what I had willfully ignored all along? Her green eyes twinkled as she watched me, and I saw in her smile something of how I had fallen in love with Emily. There was much of her mother in her, and maybe that was what drew me, but I saw too a person unique unto herself. The smile was familiar, but more playful and less world-wise. Would it become like her mother’s in the years to come, or would it be something all of its own?

To think, I had actually kissed those lips. That I had made love to her sweet body.

I had fucked Emily’s daughter. What was wrong with me?

Dozens of people passed by every minute, and in my gut I felt sure every one of them knew my shame. How could I be out in public after what I had done? How could I let them see me?

Stop and think, I told myself, were’re in the city, downtown. They’re just strangers. None of these people are going to know who you are, or care what you do. Only strangers.

That thought kept me calm for all of about five minutes before I was proven wrong.

“Mike!” I heard a voice call out my name, and my heart squeezed tight, “How are you?”

Out of all the cafes in the city, of course he had to come where I was sitting. This couldn’t be happening.

No, calm down. He’s just passing through. He doesn’t know anything. Please let him not notice anything.

“Mr Templeton,” I said, rising so fast my knee almost knocked over the table. “It’s good to see you.”

It really wasn’t. The absolute last thing I wanted to see was anyone and everyone that actually knew me, and that went double for any stodgy, judgmental clients of mine.

On second thought, the absolute last thing I wanted was for him to pull out a seat and join us at the table. Given how the rest of my day had gone, it should have come as no surprise when he did exactly that.

“So how is everything, Mike?” he asked between bites of his sandwich. “Are you still with, ah, what was her name again?”

“Emily,” I told him, “and yes, we’re still happily married.”

If she ever learned what I’d done with her daughter, I would become a happily married corpse, but that was beside the point.

“In fact, this is her daughter Catherine. Cath, this is Mr Templeton, one of my best customers.”

Yes, see. Nothing going on here except a man taking his wife’s daughter out for a nice family outing. I gave Catherine the clearest don’t screw this up look I could manage, knowing full well there wasn’t a thing I could do if she decided otherwise.

Fortunately, she took the hint. Or maybe her old shyness resurfaced now that the two of us weren’t alone in a sea of strangers. Whatever the reason, she was perfectly behaved as she reached across and shook his hand. He frowned as he took in her dress, but that didn’t mean anything. Templeton was one of those old geezer who considered anyone younger than thirty a hopeless punk, and didn’t really trust anyone until they were at least fifty with good chunk of grey in their hair.

Ok. Introductions over. You’ve met everyone, you can go now.

Of course he didn’t. Why would I expect anything else, given my luck. No, instead we needed a long, rambling discussion of his favorite baseball team, while he waxed poetic about the great players of his day and how today’s crop of kids wouldn’t even cut it in the minor leagues of his youth.

I smiled and nodded, adding my agreement wherever appropriate. He really was one of our best customers, after all, and I had to pay for Catherine’s shopping spree somehow. As he rambled on, I felt something slide across my thigh. I looked at Catherine, and saw her smiling.

No, I shook my head, trying to dissuade her. Not here, not in public, and certainly not in front of my client.

As if that was the biggest problem with having Catherine’s hand at my crotch. The idea that someone might see it.

Get it together, Mike, I told myself, but there was little I could do to stop her. Especially if I didn’t want to give myself away.

Knowing there was nothing I could do, she just smiled and tugged at my zipper. I bit the inside of my lip, trying not to react as her hand stroked up and down. She teased, changing the rhythm up whenever I started getting used to it. Mid sentence she stopped, pausing just long enough to get my attention before she gave my dick a hard squeeze and started tugging harder. I stumbled, of course I did.

“You all right, son?” he asked, “You seem a bit off today.”

“Fine, fine,” I said, maybe a bit too quickly. “Must be something I ate.”

“Sounds right,” he said, “this place just hasn’t been the same since Old Man Marciano sold it to that Japanese twerp. Used to have the best damned noodles in the state, but just look at it now. At least they started serving real food again.”

To be honest, I couldn’t even remember an Italian restaurant here. The sushi place closed at least eight years ago.

“So,” I started, trying to steer both my thoughts and the conversation back to baseball. “What about that pitcher they’ve got. He’s got a pretty solid arm.”

Yes, baseball. Let’s focus on that. Always that, and not the way Catherine was pumping my cock. Fuck, but she had the most adorably impish grin. My dick pulsed, and I swear I was halfway ready to cum right there under the table.

“Bah, so he can throw the ball hard, but what about his hitting? What good is he if he can’t cover a base worth a damned? Back in my day, everyone was expected to be a real athlete. The way things are going, they should just replace them all with machines. That’s all these kids are, useless pitching machines, no real character, but at least a machine won’t ask you for a million dollars a year.”

“I think he’s actually making close to -ah- to twenty five this year.”

“Then there you go,” he said, as if I’d just made his point for him. Luckily he was smug enough to miss how Catherine made me stumble halfway through.

“Been good talking with you,” he said, standing. “Take care, and be sure to tell, uh...”

“Emily”

“Right, be sure to tell Emily I said hello.”

“I will,” I promised, shaking his hand. He frowned when I didn’t rise, but I had a feeling he really didn’t want to see what would pop out if I stood.

“And as for you,” he said, turning to Catherine, whose sat so innocently. “Don’t get into any trouble, you hear?”

“I’ll be good,” she said in a singsong voice. He and I read very, very different meanings in her words, and in that smile she gave.

“That’s the spirit,” he said jovially, always happy whenever people agreed without fuss.

The second he was gone, her hand left my cock. For a second I wanted to complain, but then I realized that was exactly what she wanted. She was hoping that I’d ask her, that I’d tell her to put her hand back on my cock. She looked disappointed when I simply tucked it back into my pants and closed the zipper.

Then I stood. Despite the peril, I had still reacted to her attentions. Even with everything safely contained, the evidence was obvious as soon as the table stopped hiding it.

“Excited for the rest of our day, Daddy?” she asked.

I stammered something at her. It might have even been an answer.

“Don’t forget, Daddy,” she said, leaning closer, “We still have a romantic day planned.”

Like I could forget it.

“Now let’s go look at all the cute animals!”

She squealed with joy, and once again looked like an innocent teenage girl rather than the forbidden temptress who was oh so alluringly ruining my life.

The kid manning the ticket booth flirted shamelessly with Catherine, but the nasty scowl I gave made him back right off. Where had that come from? When had I become so possessive?

Catherine scolded me, but her smile said that she liked it. As soon as we were in she turned and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before running off to look at the exhibits. I followed helplessly, still feeling the damp spot where her lips had been.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the zoo, going from one “Sooooo cute!” animal to the next. Always to Catherine’s favorites, never mine. Not that she was deliberately neglecting me, far from it, but it never even occurred to her that I might want something she didn’t. Shouldn’t have surprised me.

By far, her favorite were the tiger cubs. We sat at the railing for a long time, watching them toddle around like little striped kittens, so long as you ignored the massive, ferocious parents behind them. Lucky bastards, I thought as I watched those aloof, placid carnivores. I’ll bet those guys never had to worry about their mates bringing along an overexcited, delusional cub with access to some sort of crazy obedience drug.

Catherine positively gushed over them, loudly cooing about how absolutely adorable they looked when they played with one another. As always, she no more noticed the attention her loud voice drew than she noticed the ugly stares people gave when they noticed how close we were.

I noticed, however, and all I wanted now was to shrink back into myself and make this go away. Instead, I comfortably patted her hip as my arm held her about the waist. Holding her intimately close as together we watched her favorite animals.

Look, it isn’t my fault! I wanted to tell them. I know how it looks to you, really I do. How inappropriate it is for us to be so intimate. I think so to, honestly. I’m not the monster here, she is!

But if she was a monster, then she was a very pleasant one. Soft, warm, and very nice to hold.

What was wrong with me? How could I think that, after everything she had done? Maybe this was my fault? Had I encouraged her somehow? Had I secretly wanted this? Maybe if I’d just done things differently, she would have ended this unhealthy obsession?

We had a quiet moment alone in the tunnels of an underwater exhibit. She paused, winking conspiratorially as she turned to me.

“Lower, daddy,” she whispered as she gently pushed my hand down past her lower back until it rested on the swell of her rear. Driven by some perverse reflex, I found myself squeezing gently, as I had for Emily in so many private moments. It wasn’t a deliberate choice, I couldn’t help myself. She had such a nice ass.

Catherine yelped, turning quickly into a high pitched giggle.

“Naughty, naughty,” she scolded me, “save it for later. Now let’s go get our picture taken with the tiger cubs.”

Even with the price tag, we still had to wait in line. In that tight space, Catherine found it easy to innocently press herself back into me, surreptitiously rubbing against my crotch as she pretended to fidget impatiently. Her teasing hands had left me hard and frustrated ever since lunch, and feeling her pressed up against it wasn’t doing me any favors. Knowing it was wrong all the while, I still found myself fantasizing about her. Thinking about how good it would feel to pull up that dress and bend her over right here in line.

It was disgusting, utterly inappropriate, but that didn’t stop me from wanting it.

We made it to the front of the line, and Catherine absolutely insisted that I join her in the picture. We sat down together, Catherine perched on my lap even as the cub was placed onto hers. I could see the photographer’s discomfort, and I felt it myself. Both from how humiliating their obvious disapproval felt, and from how hard she was making me as she rubbed against my lap.

Catherine cooed and fussed over the tiny tigers, but all I could think about was how thin the dress’s fabric was. Her weight shifted, her dress rubbing with across my tented pants, and I realized that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I gulped then, trying not to let my reaction show, but all I could think about was the way she felt against me.

“Enjoying yourself, daddy?” she asked as we left. She made a show of pulling her dress down, but I was pretty sure it was only to pull it tight against her ass when she bent over slightly.

“It was... interesting,” I told her. We walked arm in arm one again, strolling past exhibits as she playfully teased me.

“Of course it was,” she said, “I got to play with the little tiger kittens, and you got to rub the pussy too. Poor daddy, I’ll bet you wished you got to play with the pussy and not just pet it.

I choked, almost stumbling.

“Catherine...”

“Don’t you, daddy? Don’t you wish you could play with the pussy?”

“Cath, that’s not appropri—”

“Go on, say it Daddy.”

Sigh!

“I want to play with the pussy,” I told her, not entirely dishonestly.

“Don’t worry, daddy,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance later.”

“Oh joy,” I said sarcastically, but the twinge in my cock had been entirely genuine.

“Now let’s get out of here. It’s late, and we still have to do some shopping before you take me out to dinner.”

“I don’t remember you saying anything about dinner.”

“I just did,” she grinned at me.

“That’s not what I—”

“Don’t worry, I already made reservations.”

“When did you—”

“While you were paying for the clothes, silly. Now come on. We’re in a hurry.”

I followed her, just as she commanded. With the drug still pumping through me, I had no other choice. Then again, she hadn’t ordered me to stare at the way her ass filled out her dress as she skipped on ahead, but I did that anyway. Maybe I wasn’t totally blameless here.

We made another run through the boutiques where she bought a slinky red evening dress that, off the rack or not, still made my credit cards weep. It looked stunning on her, though. It was long, flowing down past her slim waist almost to her ankles. Every step seemed to set her hips off in a way that drove the breath from my lungs.

“Oh, nothing is going right,” she pouted, tears starting to form, “I look terrible.”

Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Baby, you look stunning.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Absolutely,” I told her, without the slightest trace of a lie. “You look so incredibly beautiful right now I can’t believe it.”

“You’re so sweet, daddy,” she said, stepping up to kiss my cheek again. I was painfully aware of how her breasts felt when they pressed up against me. I wanted to reach out and take them, but I didn’t dare. Not because she wouldn’t welcome it, but because she would.

Driving fast, we still barely made our reservations. It didn’t help that she was so distractingly enticing, or that her hands kept straying into my seat. We did make it on time, though, and a good thing too, because Catherine had booked us on a sunset dinner cruise.

I prayed then that no one would recognize us, because there was no way to rationalize what was going on here. We were on a romantic date, just as Catherine had wanted, and there was no longer any hiding that. As a couple we earned a few dirty stares, but for once my prayers were answered. Not a one of them was somebody I knew.

From the looks she gave me across the dinner table, and the way her leg brushed against mine, I knew that another prayer would be answered tonight. A desire far too illicit to voice, but that didn’t stop me from feeling it. The fading sun framed her hair in a crimson halo that took my every breath away. Her eyes shone like emeralds, and I found myself staring openly into them. Our hands joined across the table. I couldn’t remember reaching for them, but it felt right to do so.

There was something in her gaze, something so innocently hopeful that my heart cried out to see it. She was so young, I remembered, and in a moment I wanted to break away, to remind her that we shouldn’t be doing this. But then the dance music started, and she pulled me away.

Was I disappointed by this, or relieved?

She didn’t know how to dance, not really, but she wanted to learn and so I found myself teaching. With each spin and dip, I could feel her breath come quicker, her body closer. A slow number came, and she found her way against my chest.

“I’m cold, daddy,” she whispered as she pressed herself against me, “Hold me close.”

My arms enveloped her, folding around her bare shoulders as I held her body against mine. Swaying to the soft beat, our bodies moved as one. We kissed. Our lips speaking a passion that words could no longer envelop. Had she told me to? I couldn’t remember, and after a while I stopped caring altogether.

I took her home and made love upon my marriage bed. That stunning dress she had filled so fetchingly pooled to the floor as I peeled it away inch by lovely inch. As fabric receded and delightful flesh appeared, my lips were there to worship her smooth young body. She lay back, quivering in delight as she prepared to take me. I saw the love written on her face, and though I knew her infatuation was wrong I could not help but respond to it.

Catherine gasped as I entered her, and I slowed down. Gently, I bent over to kiss her on the lips. I wanted to touch her and taste her, to hold her close and tell her that everything was always going to be alright. I wanted to take her and possess her, to feel myself inside her and know that she is mine.

“Fuck me daddy,” Catherine cried, “I want to feel you in me.”

A command, but an unnecessary one. Even before she spoke I was already moving inside of her. Her order mingled with my natural desire, creating a renewed sense of urgency as I thrust into her.

“You like this, don’t you,” I said as I pushed into her, “Is this what you wanted?”

“Oh, yes Daddy! You know I love it,” she cried out, wrapping her legs around my waist.

Catherine was as loud and responsive a lover as I’d ever had. Shy and innocent, yes. She still hadn’t entirely figured out everything that pleased her yet, but that didn’t stop her from letting me know when we found something she liked. Discovering them was so very fun, too.

“Roll over, daddy. It’s my turn to take charge.”

I did so without a second thought. My heat was rising, and I wanted nothing more than to hold her down and fuck her silly, but my body was still entirely under her thrall. Whatever she wanted to believe, she had been the one calling the shots all day.

That didn’t stop me from savoring each touch of her young body.

Catherine climbed on top and wasted no time lowering herself onto me. If I’d thought she was going to take it slow, I was in for a big surprise. Before long, she was bouncing up and down on my cock even harder than before. With her doing all the work up top, I turned my attention to exploring her luscious body. Hips, sides, that hungry pussy wrapped around my cock, I explored every part of her, but especially her breasts. She loved it when I held her there, but especially at her nipples. They were small and pink and so very sensitive. I wanted to nibble on them, but for now I let my hands do the talking.

She came again, eyes closed, head rolling back as she lost herself to the pleasure. Her bright shining grin was infectious, and my heart raced to see it. I wanted her, I needed her, and I was going to have her.

Catherine’s body weighed almost nothing as I flipped her over and pressed her back against the bed. Her eyes widened but there wasn’t even a single word of protest as I held her down and started fucking her in earnest. Wide eyes gave way to unrestrained desire as I pumped into her wet cunt over and over again. My desire was building, growing, and soon it would be at the breaking point. I clutched her hard, gripping and pulling as my need mounted.

I yelled, thrusting deep inside and holding her tight as I released myself into her insides.

I collapsed beside her, spent and satisfied. She nestled close, and I planted soft kisses all across her neck. Mewling appreciation, she pressed her self against me, wanting nothing more than to stay in my arms. I had to remind her that we needed to clean up, a fact that didn’t make her happy. Another reminder of how young and inexperienced she was, but I could not forget how enthusiastic she had been when we made love.

It was only later, when we were lying down together, that I remembered something. She had not commanded me this time. When I took her home and stripped her down, there had been no one telling me to do that. Not when I kissed her naked body, or when I moved myself inside her.

No one had made me do it, no one but myself. Maybe I couldn’t have stopped her, but I hadn’t even tried. The truth was, I had wanted it every bit as much as she had, and I had taken what I wanted.

Barely two full days, and already it was getting to me. I had to stop this, I had to do something, but...

It was late, and Catherine felt so warm and soft in my arms. Whatever I did, it could wait until tomorrow. No reason not to savor the moment while it was there. Morning would come soon enough.

Rolling into her lonely hotel bed after a long day spent in the conference hall, Emily groaned when she heard her phone go off. Fumbling across the unlit endtable, it took her a few tries before she found it.

“I swear, if this is another email from work...”

But it wasn’t. Her daughter had finally gotten back to her. Emily smiled at the text, glad that at least one thing had gone right today. The one consolation for her busy schedule was that she’d wind up finishing a full day earlier. One extra day earlier to plan some little romantic surprise for her husband when she got home. She’d texted Cathy, asking her to make sure Emily’s husband was around and ready for her surprise return. She hadn’t expected Cath to be so enthusiastic about it, but she was glad to see that her daughter was finally warming to her husband.

She’d been worried about them for a while now, and it was good to see them getting along.

«Sure thing mom! I’ll make sure everything is taken care of. I can’t wait to see the look on his face. I love surprises!»

She smiled, glad to have her daughter’s help, and already brainstorming what she would do. This week apart was hard on them both, she knew, but when she came home she’d find some way to make up for it.