Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 1

Virgin Controlled By Her Daddy.

Deidre Icke, President of the Institute of Apotheosis Research, marched through the halls of her office building, the florescent lights flickering, the walls painted a mellow beige. At a first glance, it could pass for any office building in America. But Deidre knew differently. From here, the world would change. She'd follow in the footsteps of her mentor, Dr. Henry Blavatsky, and ensure the awakening of mankind would happen.

That the gods would return, created by technology. Beings determined through séance and meditation, then delivered the greatest invention of human history: the halo.

She opened a door labeled: scyring.

A shudder ran through her, curious to learn what the third God would teach mankind. The lesson of the second still had her body tingling, her eighteen-year-old son's cum running out of her pussy and dribbling down her thighs from beneath her skirt. In her rush to see who the next subject was, she'd forgotten to put on her panties.

“Hello, Ms. Icke,” Mindy and Cindy chorused together, the twin eighteen-year-olds sitting at the séance table, a crystal ball between them. The dark-haired girls held each other's hands, their eyes still dazed from their channeling of Alicia Bailey's spirit. Through the wife of Deidre's mentor and co-founder of the Institute, they learned who to give the twelve halos to.

“Girls,” Deidre said, nodding to them as she marched to James Maxwell sitting at a computer, two monitors before him. He ran the department.

“Deidre,” James said, an affable man in his early forties, hair as dark as his two daughters. “Here is Subject 3.”

A Facebook profile filled the computer screen of a man of James's age, his hair sandy-blond. His profile picture had him standing smiling with his arm around a pretty brunette, also in her forties and looking in great shape for a woman of her age. Deidre ignored the woman, studying the man, his blue eyes bright in the photo.

“Michael Horne,” James said, “married, father of four daughters. Resident of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Defense contractor out at White Sands.”

“Defense contractor?” Deidre asked, raising an eyebrow. She glanced at Mindy and Cindy.

“My girls are the best,” James assured. “This is who they channeled. Alicia reported her husband's words.”

“Then have delivery send the halo. My approval.”

“Right away. It'll take six hours for the drones to arrive and begin work.” James leaned back in his chair, stretching.

Deidre leaned down, her hand resting on his shoulder. “So, father of four daughters.”

“A set of twins and two younger daughters,” James said.

She gave a sidelong glance at James's twins. “Hoping for a revelation similar to the last two Goddesses? Or will our first male God focus on something other than sex?”

“Whatever he reveals, I shall follow,” James said, his words throaty. He wiped sweaty hands on his slacks.

Deidre smiled at him, giving him a squeeze. His daughters were lovely. And Deidre had thoroughly enjoyed both her son and her daughter. She straightened, her body tingling with thoughts of her two children.

She had time to enjoy her children before writing her message to the new God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That's for me!” Crystal shouted, my nineteen-year-old daughter barreling past me, her blonde hair streaming behind her. I pressed against the wall, trying not to stare at her tank top and the small breasts bouncing beneath. Did she forget a bra again? “It's Jessica.”

Those two were best friends. Before I could even push off the wall, I heard my daughter's feet slapping down the stairs before she practically crashed into the front door just beyond. Then came girlish squeals.

Flashes of my daughter and her nubile friend, a dark-haired girl with big tits, kissing and writhing together in nubile, lesbian passion while I watched burned through my mind.

Guilt twisted through me. Ever since the twins, Rosie and Lily, turned eighteen three years ago, I'd begun to notice my daughters. First the twins as they matured, then Crystal last year, and now even Kitty, my youngest just turned eighteen, drew my attention.

Kitty's head popped out of her door at the end of the hallway, sandy blonde hair gathered in twin pigtails before falling off her shoulders and down her developing chest. Blue eyes met mine. “What was that, Daddy?”

“Just your sister, Kitten,” I said. Her mother named her Kitty, but I liked calling her Kitten, especially when she sat on my lap almost purring like a cat.

Now that she was older, it was hard not growing erect when she snuggled her short, petite frame on my lap. Barely topping four feet, she stood a head shorter than either of the twins.

“Is Jessica here?” Kitty pouted.

“Afraid so,” I said, my dick so hard as I realized my daughter wore a spaghetti strap top of pale pink, the tight clothing clinging to her budding breasts. Like her older sisters, she dressed to show off her developing body.

“I hope they stay in her room,” Kitty muttered then darted back into hers. I caught the briefest glimpse of her bubbly butt in a pair of tight short shorts hugging that curving rear.

It was torture living in a house with four barely legal but sexy daughters. I never thought I was a pervert, a man who could lust after his own flesh, but I was. I tried to focus on my wife, but I couldn't stop thinking about our girls.

I slipped into the bathroom, locking it behind me. I needed relief. And there was one source.

My hands went to the laundry hamper, ripping it open. An assortment of feminine clothes piled inside. I snagged the first pair of panties I could, white with red strawberries on it. Kitty's panties.

The innocence of her underwear made my dick throb even harder. I double-checked the door was locked before unzipping my pants. In the hallway, Crystal and Jessica giggled before slipping into her bedroom adjacent to the bathroom. I heard their conversation, words blunted by the wall into murmuring noise, the babbling of two excited brooks.

Closing my eyes, I pictured my innocent Kitty sitting on my lap, squirming in the exact pair of panties I now wrapped about my cock. I shuddered, stroking my daughter's underwear up and down my dick, my fantasy burning hot in my head.

“Oh, Daddy, what's that growing hard beneath my butt?” she asked with such innocence, looking over her shoulder at me, blue eyes so curious.

“Nothing,” I muttered, my dick aching as I rubbed her panties on her. This same scrap of cloth had pressed against her pussy recently, absorbing any of her excitement, wreathed in her scent.

My free hand gripped the counter. I leaned over, stroking my dick faster as my fantasy played out. My daughter squirmed more, grinding her dick into my cock, her breathing growing faster as she shifted. Her pussy, separated by her panties, slid up and down my crotch, stimulating me.

“You're squirming so much,” I groaned.

“Sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “It's just that hard thing. It's...”

“What, Kitten?”

“It's embarrassing, Daddy,” she moaned, covering her face in her hands, grinding her pussy harder as her youthful body awakened to the sensations rippling out of her young cunny.

My balls ached, the pleasure of masturbating in my youngest's panties rippling through my body. The tip of my cock throbbed, stimulated by the feel of the cotton. I groaned, hand stroking faster, the roughness exciting me.

“What's embarrassing you, Kitten? You can tell your daddy anything. He loves you.”

“Anything? This is... I mean... I'm so...tingly.”

“Where?”

“Down there. Between my legs.”

“Your pussy?”

“Daddy!” she gasped in virginal embarrassment.

I stroked faster, the fantasy so hot imagining my daughter squirming on my dick like that, grinding her pussy against my dick separated by our clothing. Not actually touching, just dry humping. She squirmed more, her voice growing breathy.

“Don't be embarrassed. What's your pussy feeling like?”

“It's so...tingly. And wet. My cunny's growing so itchy. I can't stop moving and grinding on... What is it, Daddy?”

“That's my cock,” I groaned, so close, the fantasy too much.

And then, from my daughter Crystal's room, came a feminine moan. It sounded so much like a sound my wife would make in bed. My head whipped around, my ears prickling. That sound couldn't have come from my daughter's room. She had her friend Jessica in there and...

“Jessica,” drifted through the walls. “Yes!”

The moans were louder. A bed creaked. Were my daughter and her friend having lesbian sex for real?

Another gasp, full of sexual energy, bled through the wall. A bed groaned, springs rasping. I moved my head to the wall, pressing my ear against it as my hand flew up and down my cock, rubbing my other daughter's panties into my aching cock.

I pictured Crystal naked, her small breasts jiggling, her friend Jessica between her thighs, brown hair spread out over my daughter's thighs. Jessica licked my daughter's pussy, running her tongue through her hot folds.

A squeal of delight, throaty like her mother made when I ate her pussy.

“Jesus,” I groaned.

My cock erupted.

A powerful orgasm fired from my dick. My balls unloaded. Cum soaked into my youngest daughter's panties. I shuddered, my thoughts burning with Crystal and her friend having sex, my daughter thrashing, grinding her hot cunt against her friend's hungry mouth.

Pleasure surged hot through me. I grunted with every blast of cum from my dick. I swayed, sweat breaking out over my face. With a final groan, my cock dribbled out the last of my jizz into Kitty's panties, the cotton sucking up my juices.

And then the guilt struck me.

I ripped Kitty's panties from my cock, shoving them into the sink. I washed out my cum, trying to ignore the moans from Crystal's rooms. They grew breathier and breathier, and I swear she had an orgasm before I finished.

Giggles echoed. Then something soft smacking, like feminine lips kissing.

I shoved my daughter's panties deep into the hamper, burying it far from the surface. Then I stumbled out into the hall and almost ran into my wife. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a low-cut, lavender blouse, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. Brown hair tumbled in curls about her face.

“Hi, hunny,” she said, shaking her head. “You really shouldn't do that in the bathroom. The girls are awake.”

My cheeks grew redder.

“Sorry.”

My wife shook her head, striding past me and going down the stairs. I followed her, smelling the perfume. I frowned at that. “You're wearing perfume to pilates?”

“To cover up the sweat,” she laughed, throwing a look over her face when she reached the bottom of the stairs. “I got to go.” Color spotted cheeks. “I don't want to be late.”

“Okay,” I said, my brow furrowing. Something...twinged through my stomach. “I love you.”

She paused at the front door. “I love you, honey.”

I opened my mouth to ask her to skip tonight, to let me take her to dinner, but she was out the door and gone before I could formulate my words. I shook my head, trying to banish the weird itch at the back of my mind, when my phone buzzed. A text message. I pulled it out, frowning at the source, a string of numbers.

I opened it.

CONGRATULATIONS Michael Horne!!!