Chapter 1: Incestuous Awakening

Session 1 with Mercedes Daniels

The click-click of the metronome echoed through my office.

I sat cross-legged on my chair, my skirt riding up enough to show the tops of the beige, thigh-high stockings I wore. I had my e-ink tablet on my lap, ready to take notes as my patient sat on the cream-colored loveseat across from me.

Mercedes Daniels looked nervous, not surprising. The fifteen-year-old girl had black hair that fell shoulder-length, framing her girlish face. She had a touch of rebelliousness in her expression as she sat there, legs pressed tight. She wore a pair of skinny jeans and a red halter top, a leather choker about her neck. She had her arms folded beneath her round breasts, almost hugging herself. A nose piercing glinted.

Patient is trying to put up a facade of indifference, but her anxiety bleeds through.

“What are you writing?” she asked.

“Just my initial impressions about you,” I answered. Honesty was always the best policy with a patient.

The girl looked around my office. Her eyes flicked to my shelf of books on various psychology topics to my desk where my computer sat and several pictures in frames of my family. You couldn’t see the pics from this angle. Then her gaze darted over to the most unusual thing in my office.

“Why is there a bed?” Her eyes snapped to me. “That’s weird, right, Dr. Elliston?”

“Weird?” I asked, jotting down another note. “Why?”

“I mean, why do you need a bed?” The girl’s cheeks tinged pink. “I mean...”

“It’s for cuddle therapy. If you are comfortable enough, we’ll do it. It’s one of the reasons I only take female patients.”

“Oh,” she said. “I guess...”

“So, why are you having problems with your mother?”

“She’s a complete bitch!” She tightened her arms, hugging herself tighter. Tension tightened her face.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m hot and she’s jealous.”

I arched an eyebrow at that. Sexual rivalry? I wrote down. “And she’s not attractive?”

“Well...” Mercedes licked her ruby lips. “She doesn’t have my tight bod, you know? I mean, look at me. I’m not old.”

Patient is definitely in sexual competition with her mother, I wrote down. Parents are still married.

“Does your brother have any opinion on this?” I asked.

“What, Doug?” she asked, her face blanching. “Why would he?”

Not in competition over her brother’s affection. Electra Complex? Or does her mother have a lover? Maybe there is a male friend of her mother’s that Mercedes is attracted to and whom she subconsciously thinks her mother is interested in.

“Is your mother a flirty woman?” I asked, keeping my voice clinical.

“Um, no,” she said. “What do you mean, that she’s like cheating on my dad or something.”

“I didn’t say that. Some women are playful. With your father, for instance.”

Her expression tightened at that.

The father. I smiled, an excited ache rippling through me.

Session 3 with Mercedes Daniels

“And how were your the last two days?” I asked, the soothing click-click of the metronome echoing through my office. Mercedes hugged a pillow to her chest. She wore a skirt today with fishnet stockings and a belly shirt, her lipstick a soft pink.

“Bad,” Mercedes muttered. “Mom threw a fit over my nose piercing.”

I jotted that down on my e-ink tablet. It was a remarkable device. It was like writing on a notepad, only I had an unlimited number of pages. “Why did you get your nose pierced?”

“Because I could.” Her face tightened. “It’s none of her business.”

“You live in her house. You’re still her child.”

“She’s just jealous that she doesn’t have one.” A vicious smile crossed the teenager’s lips. “She knows she can’t get one at her age without looking weird.”

“Why do you assume your mother is jealous of you and, instead, doesn’t want what’s best for you?” I asked, recrossing my legs. My dark thigh-high stockings whisked together. Clint loved to see me in them.

“Because, Dr. Elliston,” she said.

“Just because?”

She shrugged.

Patient doesn’t understand the true source of her issue with her mother.

Session 7 with Mercedes Daniels

“This is a little weird, Dr. Elliston,” Mercedes said.

“On the bed?” I asked as we lay stretched out atop the comfortable bed atop the dark comforter.

She nodded.

My hair spread black across the pillow beside me. Mercedes was beside me, stretched out stiff in her white pants and her blue, scoop-neck blouse. Her nose piercing glinted. I slipped my arm beneath her shoulders and pulled her against me.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “We’re clothed.” I gave her a wicked smile. “When you’re more comfortable, we’ll do it in our underwear. A friendly cuddle. It’s relaxing.”

“Underwear?” she gasped, her eyes darting to my silky blouse cut low to show off my round breasts, my skin a pale-olive delight. Was she wondering what sort of lingerie I had on underneath?

It was lacy and delicious. Clint had chosen it for me. He loved to see me in dainty things.

“Now, about your father,” I said.

Her pupils dilated. Her cheeks blushed red as her breathing quickened. She asked, her voice tight, “What about him?”

“We haven’t spoken about him at all,” I said. “You’ve been avoiding him. What does he think about your fights with your mother? About her ‘being a bitch’?”

“He’s on my side,” she said, her voice now becoming breathy.

“Does he argue with her?”

She shifted partly onto her side, her breast brushing mine through our clothing. “No, but I can tell. He likes me more.”

Session 1 with Jill Daniels

“Just relax,” I said. “I’ve had 9 sessions now with your daughter, and I think it’s time that we talk.”

“Oh, sure,” Jill Daniels said. She was a brown-hair woman with the same plump lips as her daughter. She kept herself in good shape. She wasn’t overweight, though she had a definite curviness to her body that her daughter lacked. Jill wasn’t dressed to show it off, but in comfortable clothes, mom jeans and a thin, pink sweater with a white collar. “You have a larger office than I thought for a therapist.”

“I know,” I said, shrugging. “But I like it.”

“And the bed?”

“Cuddle sessions. For people who have trouble accepting intimacy. It’s a friendly gesture.” I smiled at her.

“Oh, sure, Dr. Elliston.” Her eyes flicked to my wedding ring. “How long have you been married?”

“Five years, though we were dating longer,” I said.

“Children?”

“A daughter. Hikaru.” I smiled in delight as her face tightened. “Hopefully, my relationship will go better than yours is.”

“I just don’t understand what happened with Mercedes. It was like the moment she grew tits, she saw me as the enemy.” Jill shook her head, her brown hair dancing about her face. “When she was younger, we got along so well.”

“She’s becoming a woman,” I said. “You know how that can be. Did you ever get jealous of your mother?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed. “Over what?”

“Anything. Perhaps you saw her as a rival. You know, many girls, when they’re younger, fantasize about marrying their fathers. They often, subconsciously, are attracted to men like him.”

“Don’t they say that about boys?” she asked, her hand playing with her wedding ring. “That they marry their mothers. Symbolically, of course.”

“Of course,” I said and wrote down on my e-ink tablet, Attraction to her son? “How is Doug handling this. Your son. He’s two years older than Mercedes, right?”

“Seventeen,” she said and beamed with motherly pride. “He’s a good boy. Like his father. He’s turning into quite the handsome man. The girls are after him. Makes me worry.”

“Oh?”

“You know girls. They can take advantage of a good boy. String him along, get him to buy things before they dump him for someone else. Or admit they’re cheating on him with a bad boy or something.”

“Did you ever cheat on your husband with someone?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

“You’ve thought of it?”

“Who hasn’t thought of that? You’re married. Surely you fantasize about other men.”

“Other women, actually.” I smiled at her. “But we’re talking about you. Your daughter has a reason to be angry at you, and I’m just trying to understand it.”

The color drained from her face. “Does she ... think I’m cheating on her dad?”

“No, no. I was just curious about it.” I leaned forward. “You’re protective of Doug, so what about your husband. Ever worry about him straying?”

“No. We have a good marriage.”

“Sexually satisfying?”

“I guess. I mean, we usually have sex once a week.” She shifted. “I mean, it’s not as intense as it used to be when we were younger.”

“When he was a hot, young stud like your son?”

Her cheeks brightened. “Doug? Why would you say that?”

“Well, he’s becoming popular with the girls, right? That’s what you’ve said. They’ve noticed that he’s handsome. That he’s strong. I bet it makes more than a few of them excited.”

“I...” She blushed. “I’ve never thought of him quite that way.”

I smiled and jotted down, Incest is always the best solution to family dynamics.

“I think we should meet once a week on Fridays after I’ve had my three weekly meetings with your daughter. That way we can work on getting you both to a point where you love each other and can share things.”

“Truly?” she asked.

“Mmm, I think sharing is the best solution for your family. We’ll need your husband’s and son’s help.”

“I’m sure they would,” she said, leaning back.

“So, has your son been having sex with any of the girls?”

She shuddered and squirmed. I loved her reaction. The way her breath quickened. Now that she was seeing her son not as a boy but as a man, things would shift. She would think back to her younger days.

“Probably,” she admitted. “It’s not like with Mercedes. He’s a guy. I’m not as worried about him.” She swallowed. “Why are we talking about him? I thought this was about my daughter.”

“This is about your family. I have to understand everything to be able to help you all heal.” I gave her a direct look. “Don’t you want to be closer with your son?”

“And my daughter.”

“Mmm, we’ll get there.” I leaned forward. “Trust me. This is what I do for a living. Your family is going to be transformed once I’m finished with you.

The hope in her eyes was delicious. I couldn’t wait for my therapy to run its course. It would be amazing. I flicked my eyes to the bed. A few more sessions, and I would have her daughter cuddling to me in her lingerie, and then...

My pussy clenched. I loved being a therapist.

Session 10 with Mercedes Daniels

“See,” I said as she cuddled up against me, her light-beige hand resting on the pale-olive skin of my stomach, her fingernails painted a bright red. I wore a pair of purple panties and a matching bra, both decorated in a spiderweb of lighter lilac lace, creating a wicked pattern. She had on a black bra and thong, her body youthful. Her skin was warm and soft. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Yeah, Dr. Elliston,” she said, her leg slipping over mine, letting them intertwine. It pressed her knee between my thighs.

A little higher...

“So why do you think your mother is jealous of you?” I asked, my hand idly stroking down her back.

“This again?” Mercedes’s face tightened. “I thought you were going to help me? Why am I coming three times a week if not for that?”

“I am.” I stared into her brown eyes, a tingle racing through me. “Why do you think she’s jealous?”

She shrugged.

“Is it because you’re attracted to your father?” I leaned closer to her face, our noses almost touching. The intimacy between us made me shiver. “That you want him.”

“Of course not!” she gasped, pulling away from me.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m not here to judge. Just relax. Let’s talk about the fight you had with your mom...”

Session 11 with Mercedes Daniels

There was a tension as Mercedes cuddled up to me in her white bra and purple thong. I had on a soft pink bra and matching panties, both trimmed in lace. My hand rested on her lower back. She lay on her side, her breasts pressed against my side, nipples hard.

“Did you masturbate thinking about your father?” I asked.

Her brown eyes widened. Her nose twitched, her nose ring glinting. “How do you know that, Dr. Elliston?”

“You’re realizing it, aren’t you?” I stroked her cheek with my finger, my nails manicured and painted with a clear coat. “The real reason that you’re arguing with your mother. When you claim she’s jealous of you, it’s projection. You’re jealous of her. Of what she has with your father.”

Her plump, lower lip quivered. She had a purple lipstick on it, something garish, that only a teenager could get away with wearing.

“You want to have her place in your father’s bed,” I said. “They still have an active sex life, don’t they?”

“If I did it with him, it would be incest,” she whispered, her voice tight. “It’s not allowed.”

“What if it was?” I ran my fingers to the edge of her lip. My hand on her lower back slipped a little lower, brushing the top of her panties. “What if you could have sex with your father and there would be no consequences?”

“I think ... I think I’d like that,” she whispered. “I kinda wish I didn’t let my boyfriend take my cherry.”

“Incest is a treat,” I purred, thinking of Clint. My brother and my husband.

Mercedes gasped. “How would you know?”

I winked at her.

Session 12 with Mercedes Daniels

“This is weird being naked,” said Mercedes, her round breasts quivering as I slipped into the bed beside her, my arm going beneath her body. I pulled her close, her tits pressing into my side, nudging into the slope of my naked, left boob. Her nipples were hard.

So were mine.

She had a landing strip of black hair that led down to the shaved folds of her pussy. She had a tight slit. I had a black bush that contrasted with my pale-olive skin. My nipples, a rich dark-brown, thrust hard as my excitement mounted.

“But isn’t this fun?” I asked, my hand sliding down her lower back to rest right above her rump. “The intimacy.”

“I guess,” she said, the click-click of the metronome echoing in the background. Such a soothing sound.

“Now, incest.” I peered into her brown eyes. “You want it.”

“Yes!” she hissed, her cheeks blushing scarlet. “It’s just ... It’s scary. You don’t understand. I can’t do anything about these feelings.”

I slid my right hand down my body. Her eyes followed my fingers as they crossed my stomach and reached my black bush. My digits slid through my silky bush. I pressed through it. I reached my juicy pussy lips. I was so wet, and not just because I was excited. I thrust two fingers into my cunt, a delicious wave rippling through me.

“Dr. Elliston,” gasped Mercedes. The teenager’s eyes widened. “Are you... ?”

I winked at her and then pulled out my fingers. They were coated in pearly cum mixed with my cream. I held them up above our faces, the tart scent of my juices mixing with the salty scent of Clint’s spunk.

“Who did you fuck?” she asked, eyes wide in curious shock.

“My brother,” I said. I glanced to my desk. From here you can see the picture of me in my wedding dress, clinging to Clint in his tuxedo. It was a legal marriage. He was a tall man, handsome normally, but gorgeous in the pic. I didn’t have all the wedding pics on my desk.

Like the one that showed his other wife, though only in a spiritual sense since bigamy wasn’t legal in the United States.

“That’s not just my husband in the pic,” I purred. “That’s my brother.”

“But he’s White and your Japanese,” said the girl, staring at me.

“So is my father,” I said, turning back to Mercedes. “The same father as Clint’s.”

The girl stared at me in awe.

I smiled and pressed my fingers against her lips. I smeared the mix of incestuous juices across her pink mouth. Her tongue flicked out, cleaning it up and brushing my digits. A shudder rippled through my body. She trembled against me.

“That’s the taste of incest,” I purred. “Want to hear a story about my life.? About some of the fun my brother and I get up to?”

She nodded.

“Well...”

An hour earlier...

Lamai Demir lay on her back, a sleeping mask over her eyes, noise-canceling headphones on her head, and a vibrator in her pussy. The buzzing mixed with the click-click of the vibrator. She trembled on the bed, listening to the ASMR track playing.

The autonomous sensory meridian response was caused by low sounds that stimulated the nervous system in relaxing ways. Lamai’s skin was goose-pimpled. I stood naked over her save for my thigh-high stockings. Clint loved me in thigh-highs, and it made me feel so naughty. My pussy had a juicy feel to it.

My door slipped open.

I threw a look over my shoulder and frowned. Minako Mihara, my receptionist, should know not to interrupt a session and...

“Clint,” I gasped as my half-brother and husband slipped in. He wore a pair of black slacks and a dress shirt, a dark tie dangling down the front. “Aren’t you supposed to be with a client?”

“Canceled on me,” he said and loosened it as he advanced on me. His eyes fell on my naked body. “When Minako told me what was going on in here, well...”

I shuddered at the silk whisk of his tie coming undone. My pussy clenched as his eyes flicked over me. “You shouldn’t be in here. I have a patient.”

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” he said as he reached me. He cupped my chin. “My beautiful Pam ... My queen ... I just had to enjoy you.”

“What about Melody?” I whimpered. “Won’t she be jealous?”

I winked at her. “Not with the cum I’ve already left in her pussy. She has quite the smile on her face. I fucked her against her office window. Anyone could have seen her.”

I shuddered, knowing how much my sister-wife loved that.

My hands went down to his slacks. I worked at his leather belt while he unbuttoned his shirt. I trembled, saying, “We have ten minutes before her session finishes.”

“So I can eat you to a screaming orgasm, or I can fuck you hard,” he said as he opened his shirt, showing off his muscular body. “You’re choice.”

“Fuck me hard,” I moaned. “I want your cock in me.”

He grinned at me as I undid his pants. I thrust them down his thighs, his cock tenting his boxers. I stroked him, my pussy clenched. I ached to feel him in me. That incestuous thrill of being united with my own flesh. The father of my beautiful daughter, Hikaru. My hands groped him through his underwear.

“I want your dick fucking me hard,” I moaned. “Please, please, Clint. You know how much I love it.”