It was actually Chloe’s mother’s idea for Chloe to go on the date.

 

Chloe had just gotten home from school, when Sarah wandered out of the master bedroom, naked but for her chastity belt and high heels.  Michael had been fucking her shortly before Chloe had returned, and there were dollops of wet cum on Sarah’s tits, which Michael had commanded her to leave in place as a reminder of what a perverted slut she was.

 

She had probably been hoping, in her permanently state of confused sluttiness, to convince Michael to fuck her again, or to remove her belt so that she could masturbate to naked images of her daughter on the bedroom computer.  Michael would ordinarily have been delighted for Chloe to see her mother in this state, as Chloe’s hypnotic conditioning compelled her to see her mother as a role model.

 

But Sarah happened to catch them at just the moment that Chloe was handing over a wad of ten-dollar bills to her stepfather.

 

“What’s this?” she asked.  “Chloe, why do you have so much money?”

 

Chloe looked at her stepfather in a panic, seeking his support in a lie that would conceal the real source of the funds.

 

But Michael thought it was time for Sarah to know what her daughter was doing.

 

“She’s apparently become the school whore, Sarah,” he told her.  “Chloe here has been sucking boys off in her lunchbreak, and after school.  I’ve been confiscating the money from her since I found out, but I haven’t been able to make the little slut stop her whorish behaviour.”  He waved the money at Sarah.  “There’s ninety dollars here, which means your trollop of a daughter has swallowed nine loads of cum today.”

 

(Michael was honestly surprised that so many boys at Chloe’s school still carried cash.  He made a note that he should help Chloe set up a cashless way to get paid for her services.)

 

Sarah was aghast.  “Chloe, you SLUT!” she cried, with absolutely no self-awareness of her own condition, naked and smeared with cum.  “How could you?”

 

Chloe was bright red, both with shame, and with fury - because, after all, Michael had *made* her do this, but her hypnotic conditioning prevented her from placing the blame anywhere but on herself.

 

“You and…” - she paused, and looked at Michael.  She would need his support in this conversation, one way or another, and needed to please him - and therefore she chose the humiliating word that she hated.  “You and *dad* are always saying I need to bring money into the house.  So I am.”  She paused, and then added another sentence, and Michael wasn’t entirely sure whether she was trying to please him, or whether it was an honest statement of her current self-worth.  “I’m doing the only thing I’m good for.”

 

“She may be a disgusting whore, Sarah,” said Michael.  “But she *is* bringing in money - and you know how expensive it is to look after a brat like Chloe.  And the way I see it, it’s kind of self-disciplining - every time she gives a blowjob for money, she feels a bit more dirty and humiliated.  It’s its own punishment, really.  Plus she’s learning real skills that her future husband will appreciate.”

 

Sarah was confused.  She knew that it couldn’t be right for her daughter to be selling herself for sex - but Michael’s arguments made sense, and despite everything, her daughter was currently wearing a perfectly acceptable school uniform, whereas Sarah herself was nude and smeared with semen.  

 

As she so often did now, with her brain muddled by drugs and lust, she gave up on the problem.  Michael knew best.  Michael always knew best.

 

“I suppose you’re right,” she said to Michael.  “But it just feels wrong that Chloe isn’t having *normal* relations with boys.”  Suddenly an idea came to her, and she brightened, as if a light bulb had switched on over her head.

 

“Michael!” she exclaimed.  “*You* should take Chloe on a date!  A real date, so she can see how boys *should* treat her!  She can dress up, and go to a restaurant with you.  It will be sweet - a daddy/daughter event!”

 

Chloe twisted her face.  “No, thank you,” she said.

 

Sarah didn’t miss a beat.  She stepped forward and slapped her daughter across the face.  “Don’t you talk back to me, Miss Teen Prostitute,” she hissed.  “I know you don’t like your new father, but he’s done a lot for you, and put up with a lot, and you *will* go on a date with him and be a good girl.  And you’ll act just like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

 

And just like that, it was settled.  Michael and Chloe would go on a date, that very night, and there was no way for Chloe to escape it.

 

“It’s a wonderful idea,” said Michael.  “Now, give your mother a kiss to say sorry.”  He paused, and then added, “but take off your shirt and bra first.  Your mother’s tits are a bit messy, and we don’t want to get your uniform messy.”

 

And so Michael watched his soon-to-be-wife and his stepdaughter tongue-kiss each other in front of him, topless, their tits squeezed together, and his wet cum pressed between their bosoms.

 

===

 

Chloe showered, and then came to him, blushing, wrapped in a towel.

 

“What should I wear?” she asked him.  She clearly expected to receive a humiliating and degrading answer, and so she was surprised by his relatively permissive response.

 

“You choose,” he told her.  “Just remember - we’re going out like girlfriend and boyfriend.  Here - I’ll even take your chastity belt off.”

 

Chloe awkwardly lifted her towel so he could see the chastity belt, and he used his key to unlock it and remove it, exposing her pretty pink cunt.

 

“Thank you… daddy,” she said, pouting, unhappy, and yet pleased with his mercy.

 

But she realised the trap he had placed her in when she actually went to get dressed.

 

Chloe had already been tuned on the concept of boyfriends - specifically, that she should be “seductive” with them.  And then her secret tuning had sexualised that idea even further.  Now that she had been told to treat her stepfather as her boyfriend, the tuning kicked in.

 

When she emerged from her bedroom, her face was so red with shame that Michael thought she might have a tantrum.  

 

She had chosen her clothes from among the new outfits he had recently bought for her.  She had started with a pair of bright pink crotchless panties.  He knew this, because he could see them.  They were completely visible through her dress - which was a red lace sheath that only came down to barely below her butt-cheeks, and was in any case almost entirely see-through.  A person looking at Chloe could not only see her panties, but even see her pretty pink cunt-lips poking through their crotchless window.

 

And she wasn’t wearing a bra at all.  The lace dress clung lewdly to every curve of her tits, and concealed nothing.  Her nipples actually stuck out through holes in the lace, completely uncovered.

 

“I can’t go out like this,” she hissed at him, as he stared appreciatively at her body.

 

“Then why did you choose it as your outfit?” he asked her.

 

“You know why,” she pouted.

 

“Because you’re a slut?” he asked her.

 

She said nothing.  

 

“Why did you wear it, Chloe?” he prompted.

 

“Because I wanted you to see me in it,” she mumbled.  Was it her compulsion to be seductive?  Or her compulsion to be sexually honest?  Or maybe both?

 

“Are you trying to get me to rape you again, Chloe?” he asked her.  “You’re not on the pill anymore, remember.  If I cum in you, you could get pregnant.”

 

“No!” she gasped.  “I’m not!  Stay away from me!”

 

He raised an eyebrow.  “That dress kind of suggests you want to be raped, Chloe,” he told her.  “Maybe you want to change it?  It *does* make me want to fuck you…”

 

If she had had any power to change her clothes, the clear knowledge that it made her fuckable removed it.  She had to be seductive with her boyfriends - and the dress was helping.  She had to wear it.

 

“No, daddy,” she said.  “This is fine.”  It wasn’t, but she was powerless.

 

He wondered if he should tell her not to call him daddy in public.  If anyone thought he was actually sexually exploiting his stepdaughter, he could get in trouble.  But Chloe was 18, and in the slutty dress she looked older, and if anyone saw them together their assumption would not be that they were father and daughter, but rather that Chloe was a prostitute that Michael had hired.  In that context, calling him “daddy” might be humiliating for her, but was unlikely to raise alarm in spectators - only arousal, or disgust.

 

He collected his wallet, phone and car keys.  When he had all three and was ready to go, he became aware that Chloe was looking at him.

 

“Daddy…” she asked, “where are we going?”

 

She was nervous - and abruptly he realised that she was worried he would take her somewhere near to home, where people would recognise her.

 

He had no intention of doing that.  If they recognised her, they might recognise him, and there would be questions as to why he was taking his stepdaughter out in public half-naked.

 

But - like the spoiled brat she was - she was too focused on her own predicament to think through the consequences for him.  So he had a chance to pretend to be merciful.

 

“The far side of town, honey,” he said.  “We’ll have dinner and a movie up in the new suburbs they’re building up north.  Don’t worry, this is just a date for you and me.  None of your school friends will see you.”  Even if her “school friends” were increasingly just “her blowjob customers”.  

 

She blushed with genuine gratitude.  She thought he was being nice to her - going easy on her.  That was good.

 

===

 

They drove in silence.  Chloe was slouched in her seat, trying to prevent drivers in nearby cars from seeing her slutty outfit.  Michael was focused on the road - but also deeply aware of the gorgeous teenaged sex-toy sitting next to him.  

 

It felt wonderful to know that he had brought Chloe so far, from an unappealing schoolgirl bitch into a humiliated little sex toy.

 

It was even more wonderful when her hand slowly crept across the front seat divide, rested on his thigh, and then began to slowly stroke his crotch through his pants.

 

He was surprised for a moment, and took a quick look at Chloe.

 

She was red-faced.  “I can’t help it,” she said, avoiding his eyes.  “The tuning… I have to be seductive with my boyfriends.  I want you to… want me.  I need you to be…”  She didn’t finish the sentence, but it was clear she was going to say “horny for me”.  

 

He used his left hand to press her fingers harder against his groin.  His cock was rock hard and eager for their touch.  

 

“That feels good, Chloe,” he told her.  “You should keep going.  But I’m not going to let you be a cocktease.  Whatever expectation you create… you should be prepared to satisfy it.”

 

She made a moan of horror and disgust - but her hand squeezed his cock through his pants, then stroked it, then squeezed it again.  

 

“What do you think it means when a girl strokes her boyfriend’s cock in the car, Chloe?” Michael asked.

 

She didn’t want to answer, but she knew that Michael would force an answer from her, even if her tuning for “sexual honesty” didn’t compel it anyway.

 

“It means she wants to make him cum,” said Chloe.  “She wants to make him happy.”

 

“And how will she do that?” asked Michael.

 

Chloe made an attempt to get away with a relatively innocuous answer.  “With her hand?”

 

“Hands can be good,” Michael admitted.  “It can be nice to get a handjob, and then cum all over a girl’s face and tits.  Girls look very pretty with cum dripping from their face in public.  Is that what you’re hoping for, Chloe?”

 

Her lips clamped together in fear and fury - but her hand didn’t stop teasing his cock.  “No,” she said, quietly.

 

“Then how else would a girl make her boyfriend happy?” asked Michael.

 

“With her mouth,” whispered Chloe.

 

“Very good,” said Michael.  “Good girls love swallowing cum, don’t they, Chloe?”

 

Chloe was silent.  But her hand kept moving.

 

“What if a girl strokes her boyfriend’s cock all evening, and then doesn’t satisfy him at all?” asked Michael.  “What happens then?  What should the boy do?”

 

Chloe was silent for a long moment, looking for an escape.  Michael had seemed entirely too happy with the idea of cumming on Chloe’s face and making her wear it in public, and she worried that that might be the punishment for any resistance.  And she very much didn’t want to be raped - but also, at the same time, she did.  Their last violent struggle in the park, that had ended in her orgasming to her own rape, was imprinted in her sexual fantasies, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

 

So she said what she knew Michael wanted to hear.

 

“He should force her,” she said.  “If she’s been teasing him all night, he should just take what she’s been offering.”

 

“And if she resists?” said Michael.

 

Chloe spoke very quietly, but her hand was gripping Michael’s cock with passion - almost painfully.

 

“He should slap her, and rip off her clothes, and make her suck him off,” she said.

 

“And what if he doesn’t want her mouth?” said Michael.  “What if he wants to… impregnate her?”

 

A tear appeared at the corner of Chloe’s eye - but the cheek that it was about to roll down over was flushed with heat and arousal.

 

“He should do it,” whispered Chloe.  “He should do whatever he wants.  She deserves it.”

 

Michael reached over with his free hand and stroked her hair.

 

“Good girl,” he said.

 

She was silent for a long time - and then, in the same, whispering tone - and still stroking his cock - she said, “I hate you, daddy.”

 

He laughed.  “Now, now, Chloe,” he chided.  “Is that any way to talk to the father of your future child?”  And he laughed even harder at her terrified, mortified reaction.

 

“If you don’t want me to rape you tonight, Chloe,” he told her, “all you have to do is stop teasing my cock with your hand.  No nice girl would do that to her stepfather.”

 

But her hand kept working, driven by her hypnotic need to seduce him.

 

“That’s what I thought,” said Michael.  “Now - let’s go have dinner.”

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)