Double Daddies

This follows on from 'Reach For The Star' and 'Bound To Happen Again'. Thanks as usual to LadyCibelle for the edit...especially as she caught a 'continuity' error I missed!

*

It had been a few weeks since she was last here, playing with herself as she watched him masturbate at his desk after he'd got in from work. The tree house needed a bit of a clean up since then and Chantal was glad of the distraction as she tidied some magazines and picked up a couple of candy wrappers. But she really had to think about it. That was a very odd email this morning and it disturbed her happiness.

These last few weeks had been good for her. She recalled those afternoons, watching through binoculars, learning from the way her daddy played with his cock. That was when she began her diary, first writing how her friend Sylvie enthused about having 'older lover' and then, later, detailing how she enticed her own father into making love.

Chantal had since found a website hosting diaries. She enjoyed reading many of them so she decided to sign up and have her entries posted. It was all anonymous, using passwords and made-up names so she wasn't worried about recording her father's surfing habits; including that fictional series he had been reading about Michelle and her daddy. There was plenty of sexual stuff in the diaries already so hers didn't particularly stand out, other than that it had been the only one she had seen so far about dads and daughters.

The site had a forum where people made comments and asked questions and there were quite a few about her diary. She was surprised to see so many girls fantasising about having sex with their daddy. It gave her quite a kick to see they were responding to her entries. But one post claimed reality. Someone signing themselves as 'M' said her daddy had anal sex with her. Chantal smiled as she dismissed this as coincidence. But then there was another one.

"Hello C. I am real. I had sex with my daddy too. Michelle."

It sounded like the poster was specifically speaking to her rather than just making a comment. Disturbed about this she sought an explanation in her mind and found one. Seeing the name this time and not just 'M' made her think about whether she had actually said that girl's name in her online diary. She was pretty sure that in mentioning the story her father had been reading, she had not said her name. Her original assumption of coincidence may have been hasty, but jumping to that conclusion didn't mean that 'Michelle' couldn't be a coincidence now. And hadn't she signed herself as C in her entries? This Michelle probably recognised as fantasy the submissions of the other girls, compared to the realism of her diary. Maybe she was genuine and merely trying to convey she had real experiences like Chantal's. Yes, that's all it was, she decided. Just coincidence. After all, Michelle is a fairly common name.

After she logged off from the site, she noticed a new email had arrived. She didn't recognise the source but it didn't appear to be typical spam so she opened it and read.

"Hi Chantal. You don't know me...well perhaps you do. I read your diaries and you have read about me. We have something in common. A lot in common. I think we should talk. Michelle."

Startled, she quickly closed the mail and sat back to think. She felt giddy and thought fresh air was a good idea. She shut down the computer, went outside and climbed up to her tree house where she was now sitting, having tidied up.

This was no coincidence. Whoever this Michelle was, she knew her name. It couldn't be a lucky guess. Carol or Catherine; that would be a more obvious guess. No, wait! It could have been an administrator on the website; someone having a joke at her expense. They'd have access to her details; they'd know her name. But they wouldn't...

couldn't

have known Michelle was the name of the other girl. So what was it? They had guessed? Unlikely, but that was the only explanation she could think of and at least it wasn't a total mystery now.

Chantal picked up a magazine and began turning pages, paying no attention to the content. Suddenly an idea hit her. Just suppose that this Michelle had also posted a diary on the site. She hadn't noticed one, but she hadn't been looking either. An administrator could have seen diaries of both girls and dreamed up some twisted joke; perhaps even sent this Michelle an email purporting to come from her. That was certainly possible, she thought, deciding to look right away.

While making a coffee, she kept trying to convince herself of the logic of her conclusion, but it was with a little unease that she climbed the stairs and moved towards her bedroom door. Pushing it open, she stepped inside and recoiled upon seeing a photo of her father on her computer screen. Her coffee splashed on her t-shirt and she set the cup down on her bedside table. Luckily she hadn't scalded herself, but it was wet and uncomfortable, so she took it off.

As if spellbound, she moved towards her computer without finding a clean top. Her initial shock at seeing her father looking out of the monitor was doubled when she remembered she had closed down earlier. "How did that happen?" she spoke aloud. "Okay...maybe I clicked 'restart' by mistake...but that picture..." Her mind was again in turmoil. She had no recollection of the photograph, let alone installing it as wallpaper.

Her thoughts were interrupted when another email appeared. It was from the same source as before and with a shaking hand, Chantal clicked it open.

"Hello again, C. We really should talk. Hopefully the photo got your attention. Please talk to me. Oh...and...I like the bra. Michelle."

Chantal hit the reply button. She couldn't take this anymore. She was weary trying to fathom what was going on. It couldn't do any harm replying; the girl already had her email address anyway. She typed.

"Who are you and what do you want? Where did you get that photo and what did you mean about a bra?" She clicked to send.

Almost immediately, the reply arrived.

"I'm Michelle - *giggles* - and as I said before, we have something in common. We both had sex with daddy. We both share that secret and I thought maybe we could share more; become friends, even."

Chantal clicked reply automatically, fingers moving over the keyboard.

"How did you know where to contact me? I don't understand how you could get that information."

The response came back as she hit her reply button. How could it be so quick, she wondered. It was as if the girl was reading her thoughts before she had typed them in. What it said was even more puzzling.

"It's hard to explain right now. I'm not even sure of everything myself. It sounds crazy, I know it does. But there's your world and my world. They're the same...but different. I am you here and you are me there. I don't know how...or why. I just know that the website where you posted your diary and the one where I had mine seem to have linked our existences. It's like a portal has opened between our two worlds. I have been able to see into your world. I saw you spill your coffee. I'm sorry I startled you, but I needed to get your attention properly. Let's IM."

Chantal didn't want to IM. This disturbed her and she didn't feel ready. Who was this person and how did she know about the coffee? As she pondered this she looked over to the window. Was she being spied upon? Her indignation was cut short as she thought of her own voyeuristic activities before, but she still had to know and crossed the floor. Looking out, she confirmed what she really knew. There was no view into her room from any nearby house. There were some buildings in the distance, but even with binoculars or a telescope there was no line of vision to the doorway. It was impossible for anyone to have seen her spilling coffee. Unless...

Chantal's thoughts were interrupted by the voice from her computer. "You have company," it spoke and she knew this meant her IM feature had been activated. How, was another matter, but as she sat in front of her screen once more, she knew it was Michelle again before she read the greeting. She punched in her reply.

"How did you do that? Only I can open IM to receive a message."

"Normally, yes. But you already saw I can access your computer."

"What else can you do?" Chantal was almost afraid to ask.

"That's what I wanted to talk about. But first, there are some things you need to know. I'm sending you a picture of me. You don't need to open anything. It will just appear."

It was a surprise earlier, when Chantal saw the photo of her daddy. But now she was astounded. There, looking back at her, was a photograph of herself. Or was it? She looked closely, but what was that in the background? That looked like Niagara Falls, but Chantal had never been there, so obviously the photo was a fake.

"I'm impressed. But you said you were sending a photo of you, not one of me, changed to make it look like I was somewhere I wasn't."

"But that's just it, Chantal. This is ME! I told you...I AM you and YOU are me. Look at these."

Chantal watched agog as a slideshow of photos appeared; all seemingly of her and all at places she had never been. Some were from a few years ago and showed her sitting on her daddy's lap as a young girl. They were obviously taken by her mother, but she didn't recognise the furniture. She couldn't understand why someone would want to falsify so many pictures of her.

"Why would you want to do that? Why with so many?"

"Why would I....Oh, I see. You still don't believe me. I didn't want to do this yet. Have a look at this one."

Chantal looked at the image of the naked girl, smiling and cuddling the Teddy Bear she recognised as being hers. She saw the two little marks: one on her arm, just above her elbow and the other just below the knee. Slight pigmentation blemishes that nobody would normally notice. In the photo, they were on the right arm and leg rather than the left, but this was probably just a case of the image being reversed in the scanning or editing process. There were no two ways about it. This was definitely a genuine photograph of herself. Except she knew she had not posed for it and nobody could have taken it without her knowledge. She knew it couldn't be a fake.

"I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. I don't understand."

"I know this comes as a shock to you, Chantal. I wanted to explain more before I showed you that. It's me, but I look like you. You look like me. But that's not all. Watch this."

A movie opened on screen. Sitting on the edge of a bed was Chantal. Except she knew it must have been Michelle and not her as she didn't recognise the bedroom. The girl looked towards the camera, although she seemed to look slightly beyond; at the door maybe, as she spoke. "Hi, daddy. Come on in."

The rear view of a naked man came into shot and he walked to the girl and turned to face her, hips level with her head. He was only visible from the chest down, but that didn't really register with Chantal. She was entranced as the girl on screen reached for him and took a flaccid cock into her hand and began to masturbate him.

Using a second hand on his balls, she soon had him erect. The girl looked into the camera and smiled before sliding her lips down the stiff cock, taking it into her mouth. Her fingers slid to the man's thighs as her mouth worked on its own, taking as much of his shaft into her mouth as possible.

Chantal, almost mesmerised, shifted slightly in her chair as she watched. The girl on screen moved her head back and forth on the cock a few times before letting it slip from her mouth. She spoke. More than a whisper, but it was barely audible. "Okay, daddy. Move the camera a bit so we're properly in shot. It's time to fuck your little girl. Do you want to fuck me with your hard cock, daddy?"

The man moved towards the camera. His erection filled the screen and looked huge. Chantal felt as if she could touch it, but then it was gone as it became apparent he was adjusting the camera angle. His face came into view briefly and she couldn't quite believe what she saw. Her father! It was definitely her father...and yet, it couldn't be. Could it? It looked like him, she thought and then realised she was speaking, "but then the girl looks like me too."

"Not

looks

like you. We're the same."

Chantal saw the response come up but ignored it, instead watching the man move back around the bed to where the girl was now naked. It hadn't even occurred to her that the response was to something she had spoken and not something she had typed.

When he moved onto the bed she knew he was as much her father's image as the girl was hers. It really was as if she was watching her daddy and herself making love. She almost believed they had been filmed, though she knew that was absurd. But what this girl...what Michelle was suggesting was even more bizarre wasn't it?

On screen, he was now screwing her from behind. Chantal didn't realise it, but her hand had slipped inside her panties and she was rubbing herself as she watched, imagining that was her being fucked by her daddy. They hadn't done it that way yet and she wondered how it would feel. She liked to look at him when they made love; liked to see his face when she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her.

Engrossed as she was in these thoughts while watching the screen and touching herself, she heard her father arriving and moving about downstairs. She considered pausing and returning later but then she noticed Michelle reaching an arm out to her bedside table to a little box like object. The picture on screen began moving into close-up. She realised it was a control unit and Michelle was zooming in. But why?

Her answer came as the cock slipped slowly out of the girl's pussy. Michelle reached back and grasped her buttocks, pulling them apart. Chantal gasped and put a hand to her mouth. The hand in her panties rubbed faster as she watched the man pushing his hard cock into Michelle's anus.

*

Downstairs, Chantal's father was in the kitchen, supping coffee, so deep in thought, he was unaware of its bitterness. The radio was playing an old Eagles song. He recognised it instantly and pondered the title; After The Thrill Is Gone. He and Chantal had now made love several times. That initial excitement when she had seduced him made the first time special. Then her bondage play was especially thrilling. Their lovemaking was wonderful. The 'thrill' had far from gone, how could it? He was the luckiest man alive. A girl half his age, who adored him, would regularly share his bed and make love. They would lie in each other's arms, caressing each other. She would play with his cock, getting him hard so they could fuck. What man wouldn't want that? The fact it was his daughter gave the sex an edge. The bondage did too. But, somehow, something seemed missing. Maybe there had been too much too soon. He should be satisfied with what he had.

Just then, Chantal came through the door looking a little flushed. "Hi daddy" she said, slightly breathlessly. She hugged him and he revelled, feeling her young body pressing into him. "You're a little early today aren't you?" she said taking his arm and looking at his wristwatch. It still amused her that he wore his watch on that wrist, self-consciously covering a scar from a burn. It was only a small scar and she didn't see why he couldn't wear his watch on the left wrist like everyone else.

He said something about there not being much traffic, but Chantal wasn't really listening. She began to prepare their dinner, wanting to get back to her room as soon after as she could.

*

Michelle was already waiting for her when she got back; the message asking,

"What did you think of our little video?"

"What does it feel like?"

"You mean having daddy fuck me in the ass? It's glorious. If you can't get yours to do it, you can borrow him."

Chantal laughed, taking this as a joke. But this time she knew Michelle heard her, somehow, when she read the response.

"I mean it. I think we can cross over to your side. I haven't actually done this yet, but I think I know how to. I'm sending you some instructions. Print them and follow them through. They aren't too complicated. I have already downloaded a program to your computer. Don't worry, there's no problem. You'll see you have to change a couple of cables over. You'll lose internet access but when you change them back, everything will be back to normal. Do this by 9.00 tonight and I'll see you later."

This was weird, Chantal thought. What Michelle was saying was impossible. Yet some of the things that happened were also impossible; at least by any normal standards. But they happened nonetheless. She looked at her instructions. They were simple enough but she still printed them and set to work. She wasn't sure about any of this, but she was certainly curious.

*

Shortly before 9.00, Chantal and her father were watching TV. She was about to leave him for her room, when he asked her to put some coffee on. He never could get the quantity of coffee just right so he usually asked her to make it when she was around. When he got in earlier he made some himself, not wanting to disturb her, but it was truly awful.

She was able to get the coffee set up with time to spare and she sat in front of her computer, not really knowing what to expect nor what to do for the next two minutes. She looked at her watch; the second hand seemingly taking an age to complete a circle. Still a minute to go.

When the hand completed the second minute she was sure it stopped and she looked to her clock-radio. It showed 21:00 but the display was brighter than usual. Looking back to her watch, she saw the hand had not moved. But before she could wonder about it, her computer screen flashed on. A 'live' Michelle was smiling out at her.

"Hi, Chantal. Are you ready?" This time, she heard the words rather than reading them on screen. She'd never had speakers, using only earphones, but it didn't really surprise her after the earlier revelations. The sound appeared to come from the monitor.

Tentatively she spoke back. "Um...can you hear me? Yes I'm ready." Then, lower; almost a whisper, "I think." She was conscious of a nervous swallow, not really knowing what to expect.

Suddenly there was a buzzing sound and the lights flickered. Then the room went dark. There was just the red glow of the clock-radio display; 21:01 and the monitor. Michelle's face had disappeared, to be replaced by a bright white screen.

Chantal, thinking the ceiling bulb had blown, was moving towards her bedside table lamp when the light came back on. She was startled by her reflection in the mirror. Except there wasn't a mirror there. It was Michelle. Chantal took a sharp intake of breath and her colour drained. She needed to sit and returned to her computer chair.

"How did you...what did you...oh my God. You're here! You're really here!"

"Yes. I made it. Cool, huh?"

Before Chantal could respond, she heard a knock at the door and her father entered with a cup of coffee for her. "I thought you'd like a cup. Everything okay? I thought I heard your voice."

She looked at Michelle who was now sitting on the bed. His eyes followed hers as he glanced at the bed. Then he looked at the computer screen and thought he knew what was up. "Ah, I see. You have a computer problem," he said, putting her cup down before continuing. "Well, you know this stuff better than me, Princess. I'll leave you to it." As he closed the door, the two girls were trying to stifle their nervous giggles. Chantal was the first to speak. "He didn't see you. He actually didn't see you!" Michelle was equally surprised.