Chapter 5

It had been nearly two weeks since my daughter Taylor had caught me jerking off. The last time, she came home from school early to find me sitting at her desk, looking through her teen magazines, erection in hand (What an idiot!) I didn't know totally what she was up to, other than trying to make me do her bidding. I did know that my wife Rachel was aware of what had happened and seemed to be getting a kick out of it. To make matters more complex, the last time Taylor had forced me to masturbate, she flirted with me by partially showing me her boobs and her ass and she got me to admit how much I wanted to see more, that I wanted to see everything. And though the words weren't spoken between us, it was clear that not only did I want to see her, but in truth, I wanted to make love to her.

I should have known she was about to launch another phase of her little "control Daddy" plot when Rachel and our two other kids all left early on a Saturday morning to do various things, leaving me home alone with Taylor. However, after the last time, I had vowed one thing. She was NOT going to catch me jerking off again! Not that I hadn't jerked off since she showed me a little of her boobs and her ass. In fact, I had probably either jerked off or had sex with my wife twice a day ever since. But I made damn sure that whenever I was engaged in these activities, Taylor was either not around, or the door was securely locked!

A while after Rachel and the others left, Taylor came down from her room and entered the kitchen. She was showered and dressed, ready for the day. She had her long brown hair in a ponytail and she was wearing jeans with a white t-shirt with a zippered hoodie over it. The low-cut of her jeans and the high rise of the shirts left plenty of belly exposed, including her navel piercing (reminiscent of a battle waged and lost two years before). She seemed in a particularly cheerful mood as she sat down at the table with me.

"Good morning, Daddy!" she said enthusiastically.

"Good morning, Taylor," I replied, thinking to myself, "What does she want from me today?"

"How are you today?" she asked. "What are you up to? Mom and the others are going to be out for a while, aren't they?"

"I'm fine, thanks, Sweetie," I said. "I don't really have any plans other than to do some things around the house. Yes, I think they all went shopping for a bunch of things. Mom said they would be back after lunch time." Taylor paused. Was it my imagination, or was she evaluating her options?

"Well, Daddy," she said, "There's something I want to ask you." She said this with a coy smile. I thought that it hadn't taken her long to get going with her agenda.

"What's that, Honey?" I said. Knowing my daughter as I had come to, Iknew she could go in almost any direction from this point.

"I kind of of need some money," she said with a sheepish grin, knowing this was one subject where she would get a challenge from me. I felt confident that she wouldn't tell me what was what in this area (he said hopefully).

"Taylor," I replied, "We're not going to start this again. You've spent your allowance, you've spent the extra money we've given you, and you're even a month out in advances. You just can't have any more right now, Honey."

"Daaaa-dyyyyy," she began in a very sing-song way. "I need some clothes! I don't have anything to wear!"

"Tell me another one!" I said with a laugh. "You've got more clothes and closets than any girl from Sex and the City! Sorry Sweetie, I'm not buying that one."

"I do not!" she retorted. "Besides, I really need to get an ITouch! I can get the Internet with it!"

"An ITouch?" I replied in semi-disbelief. "For crying out loud, Taylor. I just bought you the IPhone you had to have three months ago!"

"So?" was the best reply she could muster. But not one to be deterred, my darling daughter took a new approach. "Maybe there's a way I can, earn some extra money." She paused and smiled at me.

"Earn?" I said, returning her smile. "Honey, I don't think you know the meaning of the word. Here's another you don't know... 'work'."

"Oh yes I doooooo," she said, sing-songing again. "Earning means doing that I do something you want me to do. Maybe it's not exactly work, but it's something you can give me money for doing."

"Well," I said, "I never said you weren't smart. You do know what 'earn' means, Honey!" I paused as she smiled again and made a funny face. "What exactly were you thinking you could do to earn money?" Had I been half as smart as her, I would have sensed what I was being set-up for.

"Oh, Daddy," Taylor said, acting coy once more. "Remember our little time together, in my room, two weeks ago?" Neither of us had spoken of the incident since. But I had thought of little else. And even though words had not been shared between us, the event was on my mind all the time.

"Taylor," I began, trying to sound as parental as I could. But as hard as I tried to form the words of a reply that would put me in control of the situation, all I could muster was, "Uuummmmmm, yea? What about it?" I knew all was pretty much lost at that point.

"Well, after I caught my father masturbating at my desk in my room, looking at my magazines," she started, clearly loving the fact that she had such ammunition to use against me, "I seem to remember him saying something about wanting to see more of me." She just looked at me with a hint of a smile, waiting to see how I would respond.

"Taylor," trying to be parental again, "We really should talk about all that. I am sorry about what happened. And I don't know why, but both times you made me..."

"Daddy," she interrupted. "Don't try to get out of what you said. Let's see if I can remember what my Daddy said, in my room, with his dick in his hand ... something like, 'Taylor, I want to see your tits, and your ass, and your pussy.' Sound familiar, Daddy?" Suddenly her sternness was gone and she was smiling again. "We can both get what we want, Daddy. And it can be really fun. You see, after I saw you jerking off late at night when I was 12, I learned about how to get people to do things for me. I was really into what I saw you doing. So I got lots of other people to do it for me. I've gotten really good at getting people to do what I want. I know what you want, Daddy. And you can have it, if you give me what I want. Now, meet me upstairs." With that, she unzipped her hoodie to reveal her extremely tight white t-shirt, which was torn down the middle, like a makesift v-neck. The torn shirt was stretched open, revealing Taylor's beautiful cleavage and part of a bra made from a dark, reddish fabric. Without another word, Taylor turned, left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

When I followed her up, I expected to find Taylor in her room. However, she was in Rachel's and my room, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hoodie now slung over the foot board.

"Taylor," I began, "I don't know what to say." I sat down next to her on the bed.

"Daddy," she said in reply, "I want money. You want to see my body. That's all there is to it. Now here's what we're going to do. I have known how much you want to see my boobs, well, since I've had boobs. I catch you looking at them constantly. You never stop trying to look down my shirt. So, for only fifty dollars, I'll show them to you. Isn't that simple?" I took a moment to think about this, incredulous that I was actually considering giving my daughter money to see her breasts.

"Why are you doing this, Taylor?" was the best I could come up with. "I don't think I can do this. You've gone far enough with this thing. You made me do ... that ... in front of you twice, which was so humiliating. I have no idea why you did that, but it can't go any further." As my words hung in the air, Taylor got up from the bed and removed the tight white t-shirt she was wearing. Underneath she had the most beautiful, deep red, lace push-up bra. I had seen my daughter's cleavage many times before (she did little to hide it), but never framed so tantalizingly. She was right out of the pages of Victoria's Secret (well, if they used 15 year old models, that is).

Taylor stood looking down at me, hands on her hips, waiting for my reaction. I just stared, and perhaps gulped once or twice as gazed at her beautiful breasts. "Are you telling me that it's not worth fifty dollars to see these, Daddy?" With that, she ran her hands over the bra cups, caressing her fabulous assets, squeezing and gently rubbing them. "Come on, Daddy. Give me a break here." She reached her hands behind her to the clasp of the bra. "Just one word, Daddy. O.K. That's all I need to hear and you get to see what you've been longing to see for so long."

"Taylor ... I... ," was all I could muster. Seeing that I needed some prompting at this point, she unclasped the bra. It hung loosely, but still cupped her breasts. I was in fact, as she had said, so close to seeing what I had dreamed of so many times.

"Last chance, Daddy," she said. "If I don't hear on O.K., that you'll give me fifty dollars to see my tits, then I'm going to refasten this bra, take my shirt and leave and you won't have this chance again, I promise." She toyed with the straps as the bra hung loosely, but still covered her. "Daddy... ," she began again, but before she could say more, I nodded in affirmation. "Let me hear it, Daddy."

"O.K." I said, barely above a whisper. My daughter smiled a slightly wicked smile as she dropped the bra to the floor, exposing what seemed like the most perfect breasts I had ever seen. I felt breathless as I took in the scene of my gorgeous little girl standing before me in only her jeans. "Taylor ... you are so beautiful." She put her hands on her breasts again and caressed them once more. She had incredible, slightly puffy nipples, which she pinched very slightly and quickly as her hands passed over them.

"I'm so glad you like them, Daddy," Taylor said. "Worth fifty bucks?" I nodded, still feeling a vague sense of disbelief. "You wanna touch 'em?" Again, words hung in the air as I tried to comprehend them. Did my daughter actually offer to let me touch her perfect breasts? "I'll let you touch them for another twenty five dollars. What do you think?" I didn't even try to speak this time. I just nodded my head, hopefully indicating that there was nothing I would rather do in that moment than put my hands on Taylor's tits. She closed the one foot gap between us, Her gorgeous orbs were inches from my face as I reached my hands up to touch them. I thought I was surely dreaming as my hands made contact and I slowly moved over them, feeling the soft firmness. "You've wanted to do that for a long time, haven't you, Daddy?" I nodded again, trying briefly to speak, without sound emerging. "As good as you thought it would be?" Another nod, as my caresses continued. I ran my hands all around, making sure to take time to touch her beautiful nipples which were becoming more erect and less puffy at my fingertips. I let out a soft, slow sigh as I held my daughter's fabulous boobs and I felt my cock spring to life.