Mybell

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NOTE—NOTE—NOTE

Contains changes inspired by Trish08's April'23 comments in episode 3, Mybell Gets a Portrait.

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Episode 2 in "The Family Practice" series. There are episodes, more are coming, and eventually an ending. There is an arc, a plot and a cast of characters. It might even turn into a chapter book. Read in order if you can, but don't sweat it. Just enjoy.

All characters are over 18, fictional, and none of it ever happened. Think of it as a grimm fairytale.

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Aly has a special relationship with her dad, and has started working for him at college. Now Aly gets a new sister and I get a new daughter.

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"Hello Aly. How's it going? I wasn't expecting you to call. I miss you."

"i'm well, Daddy. The reason I'm calling is I'm recruiting another Freshman. I think you'll like her. And she'll be good for your business. I'd like to bring her home for the holidays."

"Sure. You've developed a good head for business. What's her name?"

"Bella Jones."

"Great. Send her particulars. The usual. Social Security, address, birthday, social media accounts, etc. I'll do the research."

"They're on the way."

I set to work on the research. You can learn an awful lot about a person with the right contacts, enough money and a dark web. What I'm always after is a history of what they're up to in the shadows and a psychological profile. I have researchers online who can figure out all a person's darkest secrets from their internet search histories, browsing habits, downloads, and posts, particularly what they do when they think they're anonymous. We do this for the target female and all significant people in her life—father, mother, uncles, siblings, baby-sitters, and so on.

What I learned about Bella was most reassuring. She would turn eighteen just before the holidays. She was from a broken and dysfunctional family. Her dad, Johny, has a long standing incest letch. He is interested in Bella and keeps a number of special photos of her but has never tried anything. Too weak. Her mum, Jennifer, is alcoholic with a life-long lover on the side. Her father. Since early childhood Bella has never felt protected, safe or loved. Parents who can't face themselves and therefore can't face her. She herself has a barely suppressed incest and submissive letch. Always drawn to protective possessive father figures. Aly was right. She is ripe for the plucking.

I start to execute my moves.

I share with Aly what I've found and tell her to prime the pump. Show Bella pictures of me, tell her how powerful and protective I am, that I can be a rigid disciplinarian, but I'll protect her like my own, and so on. I also buy Bella a plane ticket. I want her conflicted even before she meets me—awkward but protected, independent but owned, special but bought, loved but under my control.

I prepare the bedroom next to mine. Feminine sheets and pillow cases. Family photos around the room. Photos of me and Aly. Of me and other young women. Cousins, nieces, and so on. In all of them I have my arms around them or theirs around me, and they are all looking up at me. Beside Bella's bed is an empty frame.

"Hi again. Have you two got your tickets? Great! You read Bella's file? Good. What's she like in person? Pretty, shy, fun when she gets going, eh? I can't wait to show her our family ways. I'll have her in the bedroom next to mine. I expect your support. See you Saturday."

I arrange a limo to pick them up at the airport on Saturday. More psychological priming.

***

"Hello girls. Drop your bags. Come and hug me Aly." She goes to put her bags in the corner.

"Now!", I snap, "Everything else can wait."

She drops the bags where she stands. She reaches up. Hands around my neck. My hands around her, one behind her head, the other to her ass. I pull her in.

"Mmm. Thats what I call a real kiss! I might not able to keep my hands off you till tonight. You too, eh? Don't hold back!"

I settle into a long deep kiss with my favorite daughter.

"Thats better! It's been too long since I held you. You've filled out, but not too much. Still barely a B cup. Is that a new perfume? Very sexy. It's turning me on already. Good tongue, sweety."

I've been watching Bella to see how she reacts. As predicted, but good to see my research confirmed. Aly and I have put Bella off balance, though she's obviously drawn to the warmth between me and my daughter, and the way I wrap Aly in my arms. Anyone who cares to look can see Bella needs male power and protection.

"Bella is this making you uncomfortable? I'm sorry. Perhaps you're not used to a family like this. But no worry, you're one of us now and I'll treat you just the same as Aly. I promise."

Her face is reddening. It's all such a shock. Right on plan. She has stepped back towards the door now closed behind her, and is biting her lower lip. Her eyes glisten. Conflicted. I've found her buttons and I'm tickling them. It's what I do in so many ways, but more of that later.

"Oh dear. What's the matter? Are you crying? No one's ever said that to you before? Or perhaps you're scared. I can see you're trembling, I must be such a shock. Well, here's a big hug just for you. No don't pull away. You'll get used to me. So snug! Your parents were always gone? You were lonely? Only child? They never hugged? Well we do! Right Ally?"

I fold Bella into my arms. She is tense, erect and rigid, like a bundle of uncooked spaghetti held between my circled thumb and pointer in the universal 'I'm OK, you're OK' sign. A nice tight fit. The right girth. Firm. If I treat her right, get her wet and bring her to a boil—just like spaghetti—she'll soften in good time, but until then I'll work her slowly and hope I break her just the right amount. She's speaking again, jabbering. She really is off balance. Good.

"You've always missed that closeness? That protection? You've never had it? Always wanted it? In that case you've certainly come to the right family. You two can be like sisters. I'll treat you like my daughter. I mean it. In every way. Aly don't giggle."

I'm still holding her, pretending to listen, but really assessing my new asset.

My right hand has dropped to her buttock. A nice squeeze. She starts to pull away again but I hold her tight and squeeze harder. Always set expectations from the start. Get a girl used to feeling uncomfortable. It's useful in so many ways—she learns to expect it, accepts snap changes, is reminded I'm in charge, and keeps her on her toes to be nice when I entice.

She settles back and yields to my bulk. I've broken a strand two in this brittle bundle in my arms, but even a broken strand is delicious when cooked and cocked.

"What's good for my Aly will be good for my Bella.

"That's actually a nice name. I'll call you Mybell. You'll like that." Yep, it's my decision, my dear.

"Um... yes... I think so..." Yes, you know so, my dear.

"And you'll follow all the same rules as Aly." Again setting expectations, and I squeeze her ass to underscore the point. "Aly its not funny! Do stop giggling. Oh don't worry Mybell, I'll teach you. We both will."

I swat Aly's ass with my other hand, hard enough to raise a yelp. Bella's eyes widen, but otherwise she controls herself.

"But for now I'm just going to hug you. Mmm. You feel nice too. Barely B cups just like Aly. Mmm. My favorite, with nice nipples. Two handfuls for two hands I always say. Lovely little nips. And I bet they'll stand obediently to attention. I'll see to them later. And a nice tight bum. Do you work out? Here let me feel, flex your glutes. Yeah they're strong. I'll make sure you're exercised well."

She's squirming in my hands, as I tell Aly "You're giggling again!"

This is all happening very fast for Bella, as planned. She has no time to understand what's happening. Understanding will come later tonight, and over the years. For now she is swept along by unfamiliar feelings, physically held tightly by a powerful male, controlling, caring, a protective father, lost in his masculine scent and hardness.

"Mr Worth, how big are you? You hug like a bear." is all she can think to ask. She's trying to regain control of the conversation.

"Oh, don't be shy. And Mr Worth is way too formal. I'll find a better name for you to call me later. Anyway, I guess I am. Hug like a bear? I guess I do. Hairy too. Two eighty pounds, six foot four, mostly muscle, I work out. Protective, provider, possessive, penis. The big four parental Ps."

I feel her tremble. Such a lovely frisson as her light frame fluttering fearfully against me. It foreshadows—for both of us—future trembling beneath me.

"You like that do you? I'm here to hold you and enfold you whenever you want. Or I want."

Another tremble, as I step back and fall silent to leave the statement hanging between us. She must note that I don't withdraw it. Her mind, heart and pulse are racing. Is it fear or excitement? Or both? In either case she likes it.

I hold her away from me, my large firm hands gripping her shoulders. I turn her slowly, looking closely at her, scanning down her body and then back up again, taking in her ass, hips, belly, breasts and her lovely face looking up at me.

"You and Aly could be twins. Same height, build, ass, breasts, hair."

I draw her back in and kiss her.

"Same kiss, same hands around my neck. Has Aly been teaching you how to kiss, Mybell? A little experimentation? Mmm i thought so. Your perfume will be the only way I tell you apart. This is definitely getting interesting. And we've got a whole month! A lot more if I play my cards right. Oops, I mean if we play our cards right."

I give a hard swat on her backside, and she starts to react, but I tighten my grip and say, "Oh, don't be such a little girl. Aly likes it, and you should too."

I let her go. I've prepared the ground and planted the seeds as I intend to go on.

***

"Ok enough of the formalities. Aly you get settled and into your home clothes. The black short skirt tonight with lace panties and low top."

Bella's eyes flicker at my tone and instruction to my daughter. But she accepts it. It must be normal for her new sister to be told what to wear and she somehow likes it. Good girl.

"Bella come with me. This is your room. It connects to my room through this door. Thats right, there is no lock. This way there's no misunderstanding that you're in my house and it's also more convenient. Oh that's to do with certain rules we have. For everyone. Yes including you, Mybell. You'll see soon enough. I'll fill you in tonight before you go to sleep. Your bed is very comfortable. For me too."

She looks around the room, examining each photo closely. She sees in each I am with a girl, or sometimes two or more. And I usually have my arm around them, or they have theirs through mine, or around my waist or neck. The are all professional portraits, obviously marking some important event. The girls are mostly in school uniforms.. She wants to ask about the empty frame but doesn't know how. Obviously it has some special meaning. Her female instincts are aroused. I imagine a sense of tingly foreboding spreading through her body. I smell the faint scent of arousal.

"The picture frame on the bedside table? Yes it's empty. There's a reason. I put it there for you. It will soon hold an important photo. You'll see."

Her eyes flicker to me and she squirms her legs. She's not sure whether to back away, or come close, or sit on the bed.

"Now show me your clothes. "

She opens her suitcase on the bed while I watch. I rummage through all her clothes.

"Mr. Worth, what are you doing? You can't do that! It's private." She moves in and goes to grab my arm, but I'm quicker than her, and bigger, and I grip her wrist.

"Never raise your hand to me, Bella," I say, and squeeze until she winces. "Do you understand me?"

"You're hurting me! Let me go!" Her voice has risen in pitch with the pain. "I don't like this game! What're you doing?"

"Life is not a game, my precious little flower," I say, "I'm always quite serious, as I am now. You'll come to know and like that, even love it. It'll be hard at first, but you'll get used to it and I'll help you. Besides, its my house my choice."

She winces again as I hold her gaze.

"Now, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mr. Worth," she says, and I release her wrist and she rubs it. She pulls away and turns to the door.

"Miss Bella, my flower, you're not going to leave." I'm whisper, and move in front of the door.

Her eye's widen with fright and she backs against the wall. Her palms are open, facing back, pressed to the cool hard surface behind her back. Her eyes, dart left and right. I watch her for a minute then return to her suitcase.

"Mmm. We'll get you some new outfit's tomorrow. For now I think these jeans. Tight to show off your lovely ass. My you've got nice broad hips. Baby breeding ready. No need to blush. It's true. And this tank top. What undies do you have? Show me. Yes the pink satin with the bow will do. Nicely. I imagine they'll show above your jeans a bit.

"Come on. Come and get them."

I step back, thus making it a simple matter of fact that she should step forward.

She approaches the suitcase from the other side of the bed. She is so tense. Quite endearing. A little bundle of stiff, straight spaghetti—and like a bundle of spaghetti you should keep it firmly under control with a good tight grip until you get it in the pot. My cock is twitching.

She pulls out the clothes, then stops and looks at me. She's expecting me to leave.

"Now get changed. Yes now. What's the matter? Oh don't be silly, I like to watch. It's as simple as that. You will accept it in this house. One of the rules. Now hop to it before I do it myself."

"I can't do that. It's not proper, Mr Worth." She has backed against the wall, holding the clothes tight in front, protecting her.

"Yes you can and if you want it to be proper, then I'll say it is properly lovely for a girl of your charms to treat her host with respect. There, now it's proper. So do it."

She starts to bolt for the door, but I see her intention before she even leavs the wall, and I smack her on the thigh. Not hard but I make my point. She slides down the wall until she's sitting on the floor, her legs out straight, clothes in her lap, rubbing her leg, eyes glistening.

"Come on, flower. It's not that hard."

Finally, uncomfortably, sitting on the floor, like a little girl, she starts to pull off her clothes.

"That won't do," I tell her, and grab her by the arm and pull her up. She resists me and her arms and legs windmill for a minute. There's a crash as a picture falls. But finally I have her pinned, my bundle of spaghetti is under control again, with just a few new broken strands. She's crying but I shush her quietly until she stops and wipes her eyes.

"Here I'll show you,", and I kiss her kindly.

"Eighteen years old and still so innocent. Still not trained. Well, now is your first lesson," I say.

"Stand up! The rules are simple. First, when you bend over always face away from a man. It's an important discipline to learn. Unless he wants to see your boobs, in which case bend towards him. Sometimes you can combine the two by bending away and then half turning to look back at him.

I release her and, still shaking, she starts to undress. Her dress comes off and, in panties and bra, she bends down and away to remove her shoes and socks

"Yes that's it. Present both your ass to me. Now look back so I can see your tits at the same time. Very good! Now off with your panties. Bend forward again dear. All the way down. Mmm you've got a nice fur coming in. I'll decide later if that stays. And I think you're a little moist. Mmm yes you are, indeed. Slippery as a fresh clam I do believe. Yep. Yes you are, my little flower. You're already opening and coming on! All that fighting has warmed you up nicely.

"You'll soon be hot enough to cook spaghetti. Oh just a private joke. From brittle to soft, from tense to warm, wet and delicious. Perfect! You'll fit right in. As will I tonight. Just a figure of speech, darling."

I smack her ass. One firm smack, one surprised yelp, one mark spreading slowly. Otherwise neither of us moves for a minute, and the scene burns into her memory.

"Now put on your outfit, put your clothes away, and come downstairs." I turn on my heel and leave her red, trembling and soaking in her body's response.

***

Both girls have come downstairs. Quickly. Famished. Excited.

Bella is acting as if nothing has happened, which in a sense is true. She has simply arrived in my house and received her first instruction. Nothing to write home about.

"Girls I've got pizza for dinner. Nice and simple. And some wine. Oh don't be silly, you're big girls now and ready for big girl drinks. Bella you lay the table and Aly heat the pizza. I'll get the wine."

We eat hungrily through the first few slices, then slow down and start to talk. I quiz Mybell about her life. Of course I know all about it already, but I want her to open up. She talks about her lonely childhood, about how her father either ignored her or paid way too much attention. She talks of her absent mum. Of being an only child. She talks of her attempts to grow up, and finding life at college so difficult. She talks of boys.

"Mybell, have you ever had a boyfriend."

"I did once, but I'd rather not talk about it".

Her eyes started to redden, and I knew she was thinking of her so-called boyfriend John Mackie. She had never let him past first base. He was a footballer who wanted more so he cheated on her. It's all in the file. But she doesn't know I know.

"What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Yes. He's on the football team and is very popular. I thought we were in love and going steady. And then I heard him boasting about, um... er, making love to another girl."

"So he was fucking someone and cheating on you?"

"I guess so."

"Well, I always protect my family and you're in my house now and like another daughter. So I protect you. That's who I am. I protect my daughters. Aly, get my phone."

Aly knows the phone. She had long watched me running business operations on it, as I exposed her early on to the family practice and plan to bring her into it. Sometimes she even participates in certain transactions. She understands the importance of utterly clear, reliable and above all confidential and authoritative communications. She knows I make sure all parties I work with expect this from me, and I insist they provide the same in return. Expectations.

The phone—integrated with a secure private network—has carefully selected apps for encrypted text, voice and email, and for sending and receiving certain digital assets. Everyone I work with knows they are dealing confidentially with me and will act according to instruction.

Aly hops up and quietly brings the phone. I unlocked it and tell her to speed dial 36, which she does. When a man's voice answers I take the phone.

"Jack... Richard here... I've got a job for you... there's a certain footballer in a certain college who has hurt someone who is important to me... I want you to hurt him... nothing major but enough to make sure he gets the message... perhaps a simple fracture of the right forearm... enough to put him off the team for the rest of the year... and when you do it, just give him the message 'when you cheat on a girl you make their family angry'... make sure he repeats it back... I'll text you his name and particulars."

Both girls are looking at me. Mybell is open mouthed. I tell Mybell to go to the text app on the phone and type in the young man's name and college, then hit send.