Chapter 8: Activating the Incest Protocol

Dean Michael

I pulled my truck into the parking lot of the Church of God Assembled. I turned it off and grabbed my cup of coffee, those thoughts of leaving a device at the Stay Awake Cafe burning through my mind. I shook my head. Had to get those ideas out of my mind.

This was church.

My wife parked her car a few spaces down from me. She climbed out and shot an exasperated look at me. One I knew all too well. Our girls were fighting. They were out of the mind-control device, their memories of last night and this morning erased. They weren’t united by incestuous love any longer.

Now they were just a pair of teenage girls sharpening their claws on each other.

June hopped out of the car, a look of hurt fury on her face while Dusk had something like a smirk on her lips. June saw me and brightened. Her brown pigtails danced around her face as she rushed over to me and beamed. She was such a daddy’s girl.

“Hey, Junebug,” I said, deciding not to pry on what the sisters were fighting over.

Dusk strolled after, adjusting her glasses. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell loose about her face, her skirt swishing. My wife followed after, petite and blonde, clutching her coffee in her hand with desperation. She looked tired.

I felt tired. We’d been up all night fucking.

And I was the only one who remembered it.

Other members of our church were flowing inside as I led my family in. Hands were shaken, hugs exchanged, and chit-chat shared. My wife smiled at her friend, Natalie Meyers, who came in with her husband Mitch and their two children, Kevin and Samantha. I kept sipping at my coffee as we mingled, waiting for the morning classes to begin. Our children vanished, heading off to their own classes.

Soon, I was sitting down in a class studying Ephesians. My wife beside me. I struggled to focus, but between my lack of sleep and my excitement over the device, my mind didn’t want to engage with the material Sam Shepherd was lecturing on. He was one of our deacons.

I should get the parts to make at least two of the devices. I could install one at my high school. The two hundred yard range would get most of the main building. I could have all sorts of interesting fun. Maybe just have all the girls go topless. Or fully naked. Just everyone thinking that was normal. I could program it so the cheerleaders were the biggest sluts around, just willing to give any guy a romp.

“Honey,” my wife said, “the class is over. You can wipe the drool from your face.”

I blinked and shook my head. “What?”

Kimmie smiled at me, her hand stroking mine. She was always an affectionate woman, a loving wife, and here I was fantasizing about enjoying all those high school girls. I should do something for her, too.

What?

She was a homemaker. She didn’t work any longer. So it wasn’t like there would be a horde of girls I could send to lick her pussy or anything. Which was a shame. It would be so hot thinking about my wife stretched out on her bed getting worshiped by a line of girls.

Two hundred yard device for the one at home ... What sort of cuties were in our neighborhood. I could—

“You are out of it,” she said, nudging me again. “How little sleep did you get?”

“As little as you,” I said, glancing at her. What did she think we did all night.

“I don’t know why I’m so tired. I felt like we didn’t stay up too late.” She yawned. “Maybe it was my dreams.”

“Hmm?” I asked.

“Dean,” Sam said, coming up to us. “Man, I am having some problems with my computer. You think you can help me out?”

“I mean, sure,” I said, blinking. “Is it here?”

“Er, no, but I thought I could tell you what’s wrong, and you could tell me what to do.”

“Uh ... It’s not quite the simple,” I told him. “What’s going on?”

“I turn it on, and it flashes some text, then it fails to load the operating system.”

“You might have lost the hard drive. Or some important boot file for the operating system was damaged. You should try a recovery disk or a boot file off a USB stick. If that doesn’t work, you’ll have to replace the hard drive.”

His face fell. “I’ll lose my files then.”

I winced. “Well, you might be able to recover the files, but that’s where you need to start.”

He sighed. “This is what I get for letting my girls on the computer. They probably got some virus on it.”

“Sure,” I said, flashes of Sam’s sixteen-year-old twins popping in my mind. Cute girls. Black hair. Braces. My dick hardened. “That might be it.”

Soon, service was starting. I became aware of those families that had teenage children. Nubile girls that a father could love, strapping sons that could please a mother. My cock was lead in my pants as an idea formed in my mind. My mind-control device was in my car. I could turn it on. From the parking lot, it could cover the entire church with ease.

I groaned at how eager I was to use it. I just wanted to have it on all the time. It was such a rush to type in my commands. To get people to react. I didn’t even have to take advantage of it. I could just see what happened.

Sweat broke out across my forehead. I had a real problem. This was turning into an addiction.

June “Junebug” Michael

I sat beside my problem. As Reverend Peters delivered his sermon, all I could think about was how handsome Daddy was. I always knew that he was a strong man, the type of man that I wanted to fall in love with and marry and be happy like Mom.

Now I was seeing him as hot.

I felt those naughty tingles in my pussy. That wanton itch a girl shouldn’t feel for her daddy, but I did. My cheeks burned as I kept squirming beside him. The dirty dreams I had last night played in my mind. Sucking on Daddy’s cock. Feeling him in me. In my butt even. Things I never thought of doing.

My memories of my dreams were hazy. Fragmented. Mostly faded the way dreams did, but they must have been so intense. It was why I must be so tired. I didn’t think I stayed up that late watching Catching Fire. I rubbed my hands on my skirt, my palms so sweaty.

I kept glancing at his crotch. He was hard. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to do those things in my dream. I wanted to suck on him. I wanted to find the courage to whisper, “ Daddy, let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll make you feel better.”

They were depraved thoughts. Shameful thoughts. I shouldn’t think these at all. But it was hard not to. I was sitting right by him. Dumb Dusk was on the other side of Mom, who was on the other side of Dad. I could ignore Mom and just put my hand on Daddy’s leg. Casually lean over and whisper my naughty idea.

But he’d say no. He wouldn’t want to do that. He was a good man. He loved Mom. They were always doing it. You could hear them. I had friends whose parents just fought all the time. They didn’t do it every night. Sometimes my parents even did it in the middle of the day.

It worried me that I was thinking of them. There must be something wrong with me to have these thoughts for my father. I bit my lip, growing worried. The sermon soon came to the end and the choir led us in songs. Then there was closing prayer, and I just wanted to blurt out to everyone that my daddy was so sexy.

The moment service was over, I knew I had to talk to someone. To Mom. She would understand. If I phrased this right. A lie blossomed. I swallowed and then caught her eye as the after-service chit-chatting began. She gave me curious look.

I took a deep breath.

Kimberly “Kimmie” Michaels

“Okay, honey,” I said once the bathroom door locked. It was just the two of us in here. It was the smaller of the three ladies’ restroom in the church. The single-occupancy one. “What do you need to talk about?”

“There’s a friend of mine,” June said, looking just so cute and adorable. I loved both my daughters, but it was hard not to like June more. She wasn’t as difficult as her older sister. And she was a daddy’s girl.

I had this secret fantasy to see her and her father have sex. To be there with them, even. I had fantasized about it all the time. My dreams last night were intense. I didn’t remember them fully, but I had watched my husband take June’s cherry in them.

I wished I had the courage to admit that to my husband, but he would freak out. He always got so nervous when I teased him about getting turned on by our youngest daughter. If I ever thought he had a real interest in her, I would tell him to go for it.

“Okay, what’s this friend done,” I said, not at all going to reveal how transparent she was being.

“She, um, she has a crush on her father,” she said. June blushed in this adorable way, her brown pigtails draped over the pink dress she wore. It was similar to something a little girl would wear, only enhanced by her petite figure. We were the same size, which was why I could pass for a high school girl.

“I see,” I said. “A crush on her father. Does she want to have sex with him.”

June shot me a shocked look. “Um, I guess. She, uh, knows its wrong, but she can’t help how she’s feeling. It scares her.”

“I bet,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulder. “Who is it?”

“Just this girl from school,” she said, looking away. “She, um, she was texting me.”

She was such a bad liar. Not once did June pull out her phone in church. Not like her sister. Dusk kept sneaking peeks at her iPhone instead of paying attention to the sermon. June squirmed even more, her cheeks scarlet.

“I just ... I don’t know what to tell her.”

“Well,” I said, trying not to grin like a fox before the adorable hen, “it’s natural for a girl to have those sort of feelings. Some people say it’s wrong, but it shouldn’t be something to feel guilty about it.”

“Oh,” my daughter said.

“And she should feel it’s okay to talk to her mother about it. Her mother just might understand about these sort of crushes.” I had one on my father, who sadly passed away when I was about June’s age. My husband was so much like my father, but younger. Sometimes, I would pretend Dean was my father.

I would cum so hard doing that. Just like he’d cum so hard when I pretended to be June.

“So tell her it’s okay not to be scared,” I added, smiling at my daughter. Flashes of my dream shot through my mind. How sweet her pussy tasted as I licked cum out of her twat. If only that had happened in the real world.

Evelyn “Dusk” Michaels

I groaned. Brett Reynolds was texting me again.

I sighed. He was such a boring guy. Last night, I really thought it was time for us to go all the way. I was ready to give up my virginity to Brett. And then he just turned so boring that I had to get out of there. Head home.

Home!

That was how boring he was. I had dinner with my family on a Saturday night like a lover then spent the rest of the evening watching those dumb Hunger Game movies with my bratty sister. Now Brett was just texting me non-stop. He was so desperate to get back in my panties. I didn’t want to deal with him.

I sighed, slipping my phone into my purse. I was out on the front porch of the church. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to go home, but there was a dumb potluck. Third Sunday of every month. Of course, our family had to stay. Mom was the perfect wife and mother. She would never pass up a chance not to prove how normal and boring she was.

My whole family was boring.

Dad stepped out of the church, his keys jangling in his hand. He headed down the steps, moving in a hurry. He rushed towards his truck. I bit my lip then I hurried after him. I darted down the steps, my three-inch heels clicking.

“Dad!” I called.

He turned around, and I swear he had a guilty look on his face. He thrust the key into the passenger door of his truck. “Uh, yeah, Dusk?”

I liked my nickname Dusk. It was so much better than boring Evelyn. Dusk was a name that intrigued people. Boys. They always like to find excuses to talk about it, then they would try to use it to describe me as beautiful sunsets.

“You bailing on the potluck to go shop for computer parts?” I asked. “I’d love to come with you.”

He glanced at me, studying me.

I suddenly felt so self-conscious about my glasses. I wanted to rip them off. I wasn’t smart or a nerd, but guys seemed to find it hot that I wore them. Older men were always glancing at me in ways that made me feel tingly. Adult. Like I had some power over them if I just tried.

But when Dad looked at me, I felt like a fraud. He knew I wasn’t smart. He didn’t see me as hot. He just saw his oldest daughter. And right now, I wanted him to see me as hot. This strange exhilaration washed through me. Ideas that I had never really thought of floated through my mind.

Daddy was sexy.

Wouldn’t it be great to fool around with him? He was a man. Not a boring boy like Brett.

“I could, you know, help you shop or something,” I added.

“No, I’m not slipping out,” he said, opening his laptop. It was connected to that device June was blathering on about. The one that would help me study so I’d be smarter or something. Why had Dad brought it to church? “Just, uh, need to make an adjustment to the device.”

I peered over his shoulder to see a strange program. There was a map, and it was full of all these dots. They were moving around, many inside the church building. Others were moving along the road. Some stopped.

At the red light at the corner. Where cars were backing up.

“Are those ... people?” I asked.

“Yeah. The device picks up their heartbeats. It puts out a unique electrical signal that differentiates you from other people.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s, um ... Neat. Why?”

“Because it’s neat.” he typed something real fast on a command line, but I didn’t quite catch it. “I just want to test something.”

Dean Michaels

I couldn’t help myself. I had to activate the incest protocol. I had the age restrictions in place. It wouldn’t affect anyone under the age of fourteen. It would do nothing else. I wouldn’t order anyone to do anything. I just was interested to see what happened.

“There,” I said. “All tested.”

“Oh, cool,” Dusk said, trying to sound interested.

I closed the door to my truck and locked it. The device’s battery would last about two hours. More than long enough to last through a potluck. I turned around and my daughter had a look of disappointment on her face.

“Come on, let’s get some food.”

“Sure,” she muttered, her brow furrowing. There was a definite disappointment in her tone now. She trudged after me as I headed in. I was eager to just see what would happen.

To my delight, Dusk grabbed my arm the way June would. My eldest daughter, seventeen and maturing into a young woman, held me tight. I felt the impression of her left boob through my sleeve and her dress. Was she feeling attraction for me? Now that she thought incest was okay, did she feel more comfortable showing me affection?

We headed through the worship hall to the fellowship hall. It was built in a wing to the church. I could smell the food already laid out, the scents filling the air. The sound of talking grew and grew. I passed my wife and June talking together. They looked deep in conversation.

Nothing overtly looked different in the fellowship hall, but I swear the parents of the teenagers seemed to be a little closer. Fathers sitting by their daughters. Mothers by their sons. The teenagers weren’t breaking off to hang out with their friends like they normally would.

Did everyone have some attraction to their parents? A desire that they suppressed because they knew it was wrong. Now that restriction was released. At the very least, it seemed to be bringing families closer together.

This mind control device held so many interesting possibilities.

June “Junebug” Michaels

When Mom and I entered the fellowship hall after the talk in the bathroom, suddenly I felt better. I don’t know what I was worried about.

“Mom,” I said, glancing at her, “I told you a fib in the bathroom.”

“You did?” Mom said, this look of shock on her face.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my friend who I was talking about,” I continued. “It was me. I ... I want to ... with Daddy. You know, have ... the things you do with him.”

Mom smiled. “I’m proud of you for admitting it. There’s nothing wrong with a daughter having sex with her father, is there?”

“But he’s married to you,” I said. “That’s still wrong.”

“Let’s think of it as an exception. Is it really adultery if I say it’s okay?”

I gasped. “Really?” I just felt so free now. Just so amazing. I trembled there, the potluck gathering around us. People sitting down to heat. “You really, really wouldn’t mind? I mean ... I’m scared. I’ve never ... But Daddy ... I dreamed of him last night.”

“Why don’t you find your father, take him to the nursery—no one should be in there—and tell him how you feel. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Mom had this smile. “He likes it when I pretend to be your age. I put my hair in pigtails to look like you.”

This giddy thrill ran through me. I don’t know why I thought this was wrong. Mom’s words in the bathroom must have been just what I needed. I glanced around and saw Dad with Dusk sitting down to eat. She was right beside him.

That had me worried, but ... I smoothed at my skirt and rushed over to him. I threaded through the tables, my heart pittering and pattering so hard. I kept rubbing my hands together. My palms were so sweaty. I couldn’t believe this. Daddy wouldn’t want me. I was only fourteen, but Mom was so confident that he would.

“Um, Daddy,” I said as he took a big bite of potato salad. “Can we ... Can we talk in private.”

“What’s wrong, Junebug?” he asked me, using that cute nickname he had for me.

“I just...” I felt Dusk staring at me from behind her dumb glasses. She just wore them so boys thought she was smart. “I need to talk to you. Alone. Please. It’s important.”

“Sure,” he said. He took another bite of his potato salad and stood up. “Um ... let’s see.”

“The nursery is empty,” I added. “Mom said we should talk in there.”

“Oh, your mother did,” he said, studying me. “I see. Well...”

I grabbed Daddy’s arm. Dusk glared at me from around him. I thrust my tongue out at her as Daddy led me off. I giggled, feeling so amazing to have this adult conversation with Daddy. My body was all tingling. I wanted to tell him how I felt. Mom was so supportive.

She even flashed me a thumbs up. She was such a cool mom.

We headed out of the fellowship hall. The sounds grew muted as we moved through the various rooms of the church. There were classrooms for Sunday school, meeting rooms, storage rooms, the baptismal, offices, the nursery, restrooms. No one used the nursery after services. It was a dark room for mothers to take their babies. There was a window that you could look out on the worship hall, but you couldn’t see through it from the other side with the lights off in here.

It was like being exposed and hidden all at the same time.

“Okay, Junebug, what’s up?” he asked, looking so handsome in his suit. He had a red tie on, a white shirt tucked into black pants. He adjusted his glasses, which gave him this air of authority and knowledge. He had dark hair and a solid jaw.

“This is embarrassing,” I said, my cheeks burning, “but ... but ... I like you, daddy.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice sounding neutral. “In what sort of way?”

“A boy-girl sort of way.” I squirmed. “Mommy told me it’s okay for girls to feel this way.” I rubbed at my skirt. “About their daddies. And ... and...”

He cupped my face with his strong hands and kissed me.

I shuddered as I felt his mouth on mine. His lips were strong and powerful. I quivered and let out a moan of delight as he kissed me. He thrust his tongue into my mouth. He teased me. I groaned, surrendering to him.

All these sensations rushed through me at my first kiss with a boy. A man. My daddy!

My pussy grew all wet. These tingles raced out of my naughty place. I squirmed in my Sunday dress, the skirt rustling. My heart’s pitter-pattering reached a frantic level. I whimpered into his mouth, my tongue playing with his. This was French kissing.

I was French kissing my daddy.

A felt suddenly so dizzy. The room seemed to spin around me. I clutched onto his shirt at the waist for support. I groaned, so much heat rippling through me. It was all so much. This rushing passion rippled out through my body.