Holly was no longer taking second place. Thanks to large dose of subliminal suggestion Rachel, my wife, now knew in her heart that it was daddy's job to educate his daughter how to please her man. She knew I had a fatherly right and that it was Holly's duty to thank me for teaching her, and so she knew that Holly and I sometimes needed to be left alone. I learned somewhere that it was possible to use words to confuse the brain and I'd hypnotised Rachel without her knowing I'd done it. With Holly it was just an extension of what I'd done earlier, carrying on the relaxing tickles and eventually realising she wasn't asleep but was in a light, suggestible trance. That, I found, could be deepened, making Holly very open to my requests.
I was now working on a different part of the company website but I still had to fix the odd glitch in my virtual changing room (VCR) project. Of course this could happen with any project, large or small. All had gone well for several weeks but when you're dealing with many different computers, operating systems and browsers there's always something to go wrong. It was usually the customer service team who took the calls from frustrated customers and passed the problem on to me. I rang one customer at home.
"Hi, this is Terry," I said. "I'm phoning about your problem with our website."
"Oh hello," replied the grumpy customer. "I've been looking at your new changing room feature at my friend's house and it's frustrating I can't view it on my home computer."
"Do you have it switched on now?" I asked.
"Yes. I've been on the help page but I can't get it to work."
'Probably blonde and she sounds young,' I thought, 'And probably can't boil an egg without burning it.' I was having a bad day.
"OK, go on the main page and click on ..."
I went through all the steps one by one, then I realised the simple error; Steve's 'over 18 with a credit card' rule.
"Have you bought from us before?"
"Yes, but before you put this new feature on."
"I think I know what the problem is. Can I ask what kind of item you want to view in the changing room?"
The young lady, Elise, giggled. "It's one of those new lingerie sets you now stock." She seemed quite nervous telling me. "I've seen them at my friend's house but I wanted to see myself on my own computer, and I'd love to have a look at some more."
"It's OK. I only do the computer side of things so I'm not going to embarrass you by asking you the item number. You need to go to your account and type your credit card number. It's an age check. We don't want curious boys getting their kicks from viewing our sexiest lingerie." I could recall some of the photographed models' nipples were visible through scant material, as were their trimmed pubes.
"Oh, yes, I see." She laughed, "It's a very sensible idea."
"Usually we don't store your card details, but we can store them, safely encrypted, if you tick the box. It saves you having to enter them in each time. It's up to you."
"OK. Thanks."
"Would you like me to stay on the phone while you do that?"
"Yes please. Thank you."
There was silence for a few minutes. Then finally she told me the changing room had appeared. We had made a little animation so it seemed more like being in a real store.
"Hey, that's great. I know what to do now. Thank you so much."
"It's a pleasure. Would you like me to email you, just to remind you what to do? I'll need your account number - we'll have your email address on record. We give a 10% discount for your first order through our changing room feature," I paused for a few moments. "But I'll email you a code for 20% discount for the problems you've had."
"Oh that's brilliant. You're so kind."
No sooner had she given me her account number than I brought her account up on screen. I fished around in my pocket, plugged in the USB stick and tilted my screen so that no-one passing my office could see. The email could wait until after I'd watched Elise in our virtual room.
She was a brunette, not blonde and she looked even younger than she sounded. Although she had a credit card, proving her age, she had the kind of face that meant she'd need ID to get into nightclubs. I waited for Elise to drag items into the changing room, resizing them to fit her; I presumed her friend had shown her how to work the room.
She thought for a moment, then pulled her sweat top over her head. Then, of course, the photo covered her own bra which meant I could see very little. After making a few adjustments Elise decided to take her own rather small bra off. Shaking her head, she must have decided the item she'd tried wasn't suitable. Of course, once the photo was moved ... mmm, nice.
Elise had very small tits and, as I looked more carefully, was definitely one of our petite customers. No worry; all I could see while Elise was sitting down was delightful ... OH SHIT!
One of my junior staff was having problems with some work he was doing and had come to my office for advice; nothing new there except I was viewing, via a hack, a teenage customer who was topless. I flicked the screen off very quickly. Once I'd sorted the problem out I guessed Elise would be dressed and logged out.
I was wrong. Elise was stood modelling a breathtakingly sexy negligee. Apart from three pieces of strategically placed red lace the whole garment was see-thru. When she took it off, I gasped. On my monitor I could see all that Elise possessed; perfect small breasts, smooth unblemished skin, slim but curvy waist, cute belly button and shaved pussy.
All at once I felt guilty as hell. What would I think if it was another IT guy peeping on my daughter? I closed the browser window and I went back to my new project. I couldn't help but think about what I'd seen. I felt guilty, but then I felt excited, elated ... and hard; rock fucking hard. I set about trying to compile a list of account identities. Frustratingly I couldn't access the sales and invoicing system without leaving tracks, nor could I access the main customer database which would have account numbers, names and addresses, ages etc., without a valid reason to be there.
All I had was ... wait a moment ... somewhere ... test accounts. We'd contacted good, reliable customers who had ordered lingerie and offered them discounts to sample our new lines using the virtual changing room. I had a list somewhere. Frantically I searched and BINGO! I found it in my desk drawer. I scanned a copy and printed it. At home there would be more time to explore my Peeping Tom urges and much less chance of me being caught. I became hard again and stayed that way for ages. I had, in my pocket, a list of 100+ ladies aged 18 to 25 who might be viewing seriously sexy undies.
The day seemed to drag. Finally I arrived home and Holly, hearing the car, was waiting for me.
"Hi Daddy," the same old greeting as ever, "I've been waiting for your hug," not the same greeting. Things had changed and Rachel was now happy to see that I loved my daughter, indeed I was encouraged to love my daughter more. Holly kissed me in a way that Rachel hadn't done for years, breasts pressing into my chest, crotch pressing hard against my growing member. Her head tilted, giving me easy access to her wonderful mouth, jaws were relaxed so that our mouths became one. Her tongue hungrily sought mine, our lips relayed wonderful feelings.
I sensed a touch of jealousy as Rachel waited her turn for a hurried kiss before going to serve up our meals. That's how things would be until I'd got over the way Rachel had changed when she'd started mixing with interfering busybodies who thought men only wanted one thing.
Right now I'd decided the ongoing love for me that Holly had shown meant it would be she, not my wife, who got my full attention. I would fuck Rachel and she would enjoy fucking me, the level of her arousal controlled by a few chosen words. The frequency of our coupling would be controlled by me depending on how well she pleased me: if she was a good wife it would be frequently, if she tried to get involved again with busybodies trying to control me then she would suffer and if I was horny she'd do whatever I wanted her to do.
"Daddy," said Holly. "Can I ask a favour?"
"Does it involve me lending you money?"