Take Your Daughter To Work Day - Version Alpha
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"Carly!" croaked Tom.
"Mmfpht!" responded his daughter, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand. She swallowed yet again.
"Carly!" gasped Tom, again. He was astonished when his penis insisted how happy it felt.
As concern over choking to death faded away, the enormity of what she
had just done slammed into the teenaged girl like a linebacker hitting
an unprotected quarterback. She had just sucked a cock! And not only that, it was her daddy's cock!
The taste in her mouth reminded her that he had squirted in there, and
she realized at that instant that her hands were on her breasts,
squeezing them. Suddenly horrified, and knowing her life was
over, she stared at her father as he sat up like there were
overstressed springs in his belly. Almost idly she looked at his
penis, which was even whiter than before, and limp, as if it had simply
been scared to death.
It was that image, more than anything else ... the image in her mind
that she had just killed a penis ... that rattled her brain back onto a
more or less normal track.
About then, her father groaned "Oh Carly! What did you do, Baby?"
What she heard, in those words, more than anything else, was his use of
the word "Baby" toward her, something he normally called her
mother. When it came to Carly, he called her "Sweetheart" or
"Princess" and, once in a while, "Heartbreaker." Somehow, being
called Baby made what had just happened take on a much more intimate
She realized that was silly. How much more intimate could you get
than oral sex? But when he had used that pet name, she felt
undeniably female ... and undeniably horny.
She had to say something. She had no idea what to say. So she reverted to the normal.
"Hi Daddy!" she said, her voice chipper and perky. "Mom sent me
to tell you she can't give you a massage today, and for you to go home."
Beth knew where the emergency key was. There was one above the
door frame of every room, and all the therapists knew that. If
anybody hit the panic button inside a room, the responders expected the
door to be locked, and the emergency key was there just for that
eventuality. She slid her fingers along the frame and felt dust,
and then the key, which was really nothing more than a long, slim
rod. She slid the end of it into the hole in the door handle and
pushed. There was a click, and she turned the knob. As the
door opened, her daughter's voice said, very clearly, "I'm sorry,
Daddy. It was kind of an accident."
What she found was a surprisingly sedate teenaged daughter, and a
husband who was in the process of going apeshit. For the very
first time, it occurred to her that things might not have been as she
first imagined. In fact, suddenly, she got the impression this
was the first time anything had happened.
She knew her daughter was juicy. Beth had been juicy when she was
a girl too, and her Uncle Bob had noticed that. He had seduced
her, plain and simple, telling her how beautiful and sexy she was,
freely admitting what kind of improper (his word) and immoral (his
word) fantasies he had about her. She had been thrilled that a
grown man would treat her like she was years older than she was.
Eventually, she had just asked him straight up: "If I let you ... what exactly do you want to do to me?"
His answer had done several things. It had showed that he thought
about things on multiple levels. There were the things he wished
he could do, such as "fuck your brains out and make your sweet belly
swell up with my baby." But he knew he couldn't allow that to
happen. He worried that if he did anything at all,
other than fantasize, that it would have a detrimental effect on her
future. They talked about it, and again she felt like he was
treating her like the adult she wished she was, instead of the
fifteen-year-old juicy treat she was. In the end, she negotiated with him, asking for some things and making him promise he wouldn't do other things.
It was all for naught, of course. The only promise that got kept
was that she went on the pill. Other than that, she eventually
ended up asking him to do everything to her. She even got him to
insert a slim dildo in her anus, though he never put his penis
there. By the time she was eighteen, she was a consummate lover,
and Uncle Bob thought of himself as the luckiest man alive.
But when she married, he kissed her one last time, in her bridal gown,
and he'd never touched her since, other than a nice hug whenever they
saw each other.
So Beth knew that, if this really was some kind of weird accident,
Carly had the capacity to get through this. She could imagine how
freaked out Tom was. The first time she
had sucked him off, he'd been so rigid that she thought he might stay
that way for hours. He'd become almost normal over the years,
from her vantage point, but this wasn't something he could fit into
that world. She decided that, perhaps, the family meeting should
take place in the privacy of their home, rather than here in the
shop. To that end, as two faces containing huge, frightened eyes
looked at her, she took charge.
"Tom. I know what just happened. Get dressed. Go back to work. Carly, go ask
Jennifer where all the waste baskets are and empty them into the
dumpster out back. I'll clean up the room. I can't get off
work now, but we'll discuss this when I get home tonight."
Nobody asked her how she knew what just happened. Everybody knew that moms (or wives) had the mystical ability to just know things. Besides, both participants were still distracted by what had happened.
"I can't just go back to work!" gasped Tom, looking around the room as if there were others there who would back him up on this.
"Yes you can!" snapped his wife. "You have to. This isn't
the end of the world, Tom. No matter how you feel about it right
now, this isn't the end of the world. We need to talk about it,
but we can't do that right this instant. Just go back to
work. Think about work."
Tom looked at Carly. He blinked. "I can't think about work," he said, as if he thought she was crazy.
"Then think about what she did, and how much you obviously enjoyed it!"
snarled Beth. "But whatever you do, do it somewhere else.
The last thing I need is for you to melt down at my workplace!"
He suddenly looked wounded. "I'm not going to melt down!" he complained.
"Good. Now get dressed and get out of here, or I'm going to have her do it again and give her a stroke by stroke critique of her performance!"
Carly finally spoke. "Do what again?" Her voice sounded innocent.
Beth shot her a venomous look. "Don't even try it, missy." She pointed at the window. "Two way mirror."
Carly paled. "You saw?"
"Ohhhh yeah," said her mother.
"It was an accident!" yipped Carly.
"We will discuss this at home!" Beth almost yelled.
Tom stood. He was stark naked, but he acted like he was fully clothed.
"This is all some kind of practical joke ... isn't it." He
grinned, tentatively. "That's it. I don't know how you did
it, but you made me think it was Carly. But it was you ... really." He looked hopeful. "Wasn't it?"
Beth put one hand on either of his cheeks and put her nose an inch from his.
"Tom, honey, your daughter just sucked your dick. If you want to, kiss her, and you'll taste your own semen. I don't know why Carly sucked your dick. Well, actually I think I do
know why, but that's not the point. The point is that something very
strange has happened to this family, and I just want to make sure we
survive it. So please go back to work and act normal and try to be normal, and when you come home tonight, we'll work this all out. Please? For me?"
"I don't understand," he whined.
"Do you love me?" she asked.
"Of course I do," he moaned.
"And I love you too. I just saw our daughter suck your dick, and I still love you, Tom! That has to be enough for right now."
He somehow had the capacity left in him to look shocked one more time. But then his face steadied.
"Okay," he said, firmly. He looked at Carly. It was obvious
he had no idea what to say to her. Finally he came up with "I'll
discuss this with you later, young lady!"
They had to stop him from leaving the room stark naked.
Carly opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat.
The only things her mother had said to her since coming into that room
were instructions for her to do this or that thing at work. She
had emptied the wastebaskets. She had helped Jennifer file
things. She had straightened up the office supplies closet.
She had also figured out where the entrance to the secret hallway was,
and had gone to stand where she saw her mother's footprints in the
dust, on the other side of the mirror where she had sucked her daddy's
Now her mother was driving them home, staring through the windshield to
the front of the car, just like she always did. It was like she
Which was insane.
But there was no way Carly was going to start the conversation.
She knew it would have to happen. But she could wait.
Ten minutes later Carly was remembering the taste in her mouth.
She hadn't had a chance to take a drink, or wash her mouth out after he
spurted in it. And by the time she did get the chance, the
combination of musk, bitter, salty and somehow sweet tastes had
impressed itself on her brain in ways she could hardly believe.
It wasn't objectionable. That, in itself was surprising enough.
But what blew her away was that she remembered the taste as "yummy."
And that she knew if she ever got the chance to suck it again ... she'd happily let him come in her mouth again.
The "him" Carly was thinking about was having problems of his own.
Staff Sergeant Tom Rawlinson had been raised on a wheat farm, where he
started working from dawn to dusk when he was about eleven or
twelve. It wasn't make-work either, and his work ethic was firmly
established by the time he got to high school, which was just a
different kind of work to Tom.
Theirs was a family farm, and with the mixture of good years and hard
years, they never had a lot of money. That's why Tom decided to
join the Army when he graduated. The GI Bill would get him to
college, whereas wheat would not. And Army life wasn't all that
different from farm life. You still got up before the sun, and
went out and did things in the dark. But the backbreaking,
tire-you-out part was usually done before breakfast. After that
the civilians came to work, and things seemed to slow down a bit.
He adapted well, and became an expert at his job, which he enjoyed
And, finally, he had time for girls.
He'd been interested in girls for years, of course, but on the farm you
rarely got to interact with them. But you stumbled over them
right and left in school, where they seemed to be strange, alien
creatures, who traveled in packs and either laughed at you or took
offense at the slightest thing you did. It didn't help that his
parents were very conservative. He was the product of normal
boy/girl interactions and wasn't aware until after his own marriage
that he was conceived out of wedlock. That was the source of his
parents' almost maniacal insistence that he wait to explore
girls. The problem was that it was always just "wait" and there
was no suggestion as to when he could stop waiting. It wasn't
that they were being mean. They just knew how hard it was for
them when they screwed up, and didn't want the same thing to happen to
So Tom didn't have many "girl skills" when he was finally turned loose
into the world by the Army, after basic and AIT were finished.
Suddenly he had all this free time, and could go eat wherever he wanted
to. He had money, and even bought his own car.
One night he drove that car to the local A&W and pulled into a
slot, where he ordered a burger, fries and a root beer float, which was
brought to him by a vision of perky loveliness on old fashioned roller
skates. He stared at her so long that she asked him if he was all
right. He was so nervous he fumbled his cash, dropping it in his
lap. She looked in as he fished around for it and saw the
evidence of his reaction to her. On impulse, she wrote her number
on his receipt and handed it to him with a smile that only made things
in his lap worse.
Beth Cotter wasn't the first girl Tom had taken out, but she was
completely different from every other girl he'd ever met. He was
completely unaware that Beth got all the loving she could want from her
Uncle Bob. Nor was he aware that he was as different to her, as
she was to him. She was used to boys who wanted to get to the
main event with as little fuss and muss as possible, boys who told her
she had "sweet titties" or gave them "an awesome boner." They
were city boys, who had no style or class.
But Tom was a gentleman and, while he obviously reacted to her like the
others, his approach was so tenuous that she was the one who had to
make things happen. While she had no interest in any boy who
thought she had "titties" she found herself wishing Tom would touch
them. He was quiet, and serious, and smart. He blushed a
lot, and yearned a lot, and within four or five dates, she knew he was
Getting him to bed her was like pulling teeth, though.
Later, she would laugh, because every single time her hand fluttered to
his groin, she found evidence of his arousal. He always
had an erection. But every time she tried to get him to use it,
he resisted. He said "It ain't right" a lot, until she finally
overcame that argument by saying "I'm the girl, Tom. It's right
if I say it's right."
Which he bought, hook, line and sinker.
The rest of their courtship was pretty normal. Both sets of
parents thought getting married was a mistake, but both young people
were convinced they could make a go of it. Beth continued to work
until she got pregnant with Carly, but by then Tom had been promoted,
and by the time Carly started in school, he had been promoted again and
they were living on post. They didn't have a lot of money, but
then he was used to that. As for Beth, she had a gem of a man and
she knew it. There were more important things than money.
The only thing she struggled with was his shyness in bed. Beth
was used to doing whatever seemed like it might feel good, and Uncle
Bob had taught her a lot of
ways to feel good. But Tom sometimes resisted when she described
what she wanted him to do in bed. He said "That ain't natural,
Beth" enough times that she finally said "I'm the woman,
Tom. If I say it's natural, then it is."
He bought that too, though it took longer.
It took long enough, in fact, that their daughter was about twelve when
Tom finally felt completely normal lusting after his woman and having
hot, sweaty sex with his wife, no matter how she wanted to do it.
The problem was there was another woman in the house. She was not
simply a younger version of his wife. They had different color
hair, and different body types. But their personalities were very
similar. Both were fun-loving girls, who didn't mind taking a risk if
the benefits looked good enough. Carly was fearless, which she
got from her father who, armed only with a ball peen hammer, had faced
down and killed a rabid coyote when he was fourteen.
The problem was that she had the same latent sexuality that her mother
had when he met her at that A&W stand. The changes taking
place in her body were "a pain" as she put it, but they didn't change
the way she felt about her daddy, who she got to see less than she
wanted to. And that meant that when she did
get the chance, she cuddled up next to him on the couch, or crawled
into bed and wormed her way between mommy and daddy, to be warm and
snug. She gave him long, tight hugs, and kisses that explored the
difference between how his face felt in the morning, if she was up that
early, and the evening, when his stubble made things feel completely
And then she was thirteen, and fourteen, and she looked like a woman, and felt like a woman, and smelled like a woman as she hugged him and kissed him.
He loved her. And love, to Tom Rawlinson, was love. He had
a hard time separating the way he felt about his daughter from the way
he felt about his wife. He would die to protect either one.
He would starve to feed either of them. He would kill anyone who
But what confused and bothered Tom, was what he felt in his groin as he
watched his little girl bend over to pick something up off the floor,
or looked at the hard little points of her nipples through the T shirt
she wore as pajamas. The feel of her body in his arms made him
stiff, and he was ashamed.
He did not discuss these feelings with his wife. What man
would? Instead he kept silent, hoping his urges would go
away. He felt horrible, one night, when as he lunged into Beth,
thrusting his hard penis deep into her body, he imagined doing the same
thing to Carly.
It had been horribly exciting as he spurted ... but he felt miserable as he lay there in his trusting wife's arms afterward.
Which was why Tom couldn't just "go back to work and not think about it."
He paid no attention as his assistant squad leader put the squad
through their paces in NBC training. There wasn't a lot involved
in the defense against nuclear attack. When you saw the flash you
hit the dirt with your feet toward the blast and prayed it wasn't
already too late. The defenses against biological and chemical
attack were more involved, but Tom was pretty sure they were just as
useless. If you saw the flash of a nuclear device, then you had
already been irradiated. And by the time you detected the
symptoms of either a biological or chemical attack, you were probably
already lying on the ground, doing the funky chicken as you died.
Besides, he'd watched them all do this training dozens of times before, and they were all proficient at meeting Army standards.
Instead, he kept remembering the feel of a soft hand stroking him, and
of soft, hot lips sucking him. And then he re-lived uncovering
his eyes and seeing his sweet baby girl, his sperm on her lips,
swallowing, looking like it was no big deal at all.
He wondered who else those lips had sucked like that, and he growled.
His assistant squad leader, hearing that growl, yelled "Do it again! Do it better!"
Tom, unaware that he had expressed displeasure at the squad's
performance, remembered seeing Carly's flat, smooth belly as she backed
away from the massage table. That looked just like her mother's
had, back before his spurting penis had made it swell grotesquely, with
the girl whose flat belly now contained the sperm that had made her.
And that made him think of how Carly's belly would swell one day too
... after some man had lain on top of her ... thrusting ... violating
... soiling his baby girl.
Except it was obvious that, like her mother ... she would welcome being violated in that manner.
"I gotta go," he rasped.
"You okay, Sarge?" asked Zack, his assistant squad leader.
Tom ignored the question. "Go talk to the NBC NCO and see if he
can get us some time in the gas chamber," he said. He was
referring to the little house in which a squad could assemble and be
intentionally tear gassed, so they could test out their gas
masks. "I gotta go home, but I'll be back."
"Sure thing, Sarge," said Zack. "Good luck."
"I'm gonna need more than luck," said Tom under his breath, as he walked towards the parking lot.
"What should I do?" asked Carly, when they got home. She had
expected to get yelled at in the car, but her mother hadn't said a
word. And it wasn't one of those "I'm so mad I'm not talking"
things either. Her mother hadn't looked stressed at all.
She just drove home. She even hummed for a few seconds at one
point. Then, when they got home, her father's car had been
there. He never got home this early.
"Go find your father. We may as well get this over with," said her mother.
"What's going to happen?" asked Carly. For the first time she felt fear tighten her gut.
"I have no idea, honey," said her mother. That was confusing,
because the use of "honey" sounded so completely normal, like her mom
wasn't furious with her. But what woman isn't furious when
another woman sucks her husband's dick?! It was very confusing.
Her father wasn't hard to find. He was in the garage, cutting a
piece of wood on the table saw. Her grandpa let them use his shop
tools when they were stationed in the US. If they went overseas,
grandpa came with his trailer and took them all home again. Her
dad liked to make furniture, and he had taught her how to help
him. She plugged her ears with her fingertips and waited until he
noticed her. She saw his eyes dip to her breasts. Or maybe
her stomach. She couldn't tell for sure.
"We're home," she said, when he turned the saw off.
"Oh," he said, looking uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, suddenly. "I didn't mean to do it."
"How can you not mean to do something like that ... and do it anyway?" he asked.
"You said to do it. I mean I knew you thought I was Mom, but then
you said to do it ... and I got confused or something ... and I just
"Have you done it before?" he asked. His voice sounded funny, like he was mad. But he didn't look mad.
"No!" she yipped. "I've never done that! I've never even seen a boy's ..." She didn't finish, because the word "dick" somehow sounded juvenile in her brain.
He slumped, and he swayed so much she thought he might actually fall down.
"Good," he whispered.
"Mom said for me to find you," said Carly. "She said she wanted to get it over with."
He moved, and then froze. "I love you!" he blurted. Then
his face got very red. "I mean ... what happened ... I
still love you."
She hadn't been aware she was as tightly wound as she was, until she
suddenly burst into tears with the relief of knowing she hadn't ruined
something. She ran to him and hugged him tightly. His arms
around her felt tentative at first, but then hugged her back.
"It'll be okay," he murmured into her hair.
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