Author’s note: Special thanks to A, who inspired me to write her into this chapter and to whom I owe any additional energy or creativity you may find here. You’re delightful.
This is a four-part chapter in a chronologically and procedurally arranged series; I’d recommend that you start with Ch. 1 to get your bearings (which also happens to be one of the most popular chapters), or at least read Ch. 2, which is a very short synopsis of the rules of the universe in these stories.
All parts of this chapter have been completed and submitted; expect to see one section go live each day, so stay tuned.
This series deals with first-time, free-use, age difference, light BDSM/noncon, and light incest.
****************
Part 1.
‘About ready to go, sweetheart?’ I called up the stairs from the entryway, my jacket over my arm.
‘Ten seconds, dad!’ Jennifer shouted from behind the bathroom door, and I checked my watch again just as a horn honked in the driveway to let us know Dave and Layla Kendrick had arrived to pick us up.
‘They’re here, honey,’ I said.
‘Oh my gosh daddy, I’m COMING,’ she laughed, appearing at the top of the stairs and nearly taking my breath away as she descended toward me.
We were fine. Martin Davis, who was hosting the father-daughter party, had said come by anytime after 1:00pm. I certainly wasn’t interested in being late, though-I had been looking forward to tonight for weeks, ever since Martin had invited us.
She was dressed simply, and her figure and her grace were always stunning. She wore a very light, white, off-the-shoulder knit top which was thin enough to make it obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. She didn’t really need to most of the time; her breasts were finely formed B-cups, and the prominent nipples she had been blessed with pressed emphatically against the soft cashmere, which draped and clung perfectly to all the important details of her bust, her breasts bouncing gently with each step she took down the stairs.
The top was a crop, which ended just above her navel, and I admired the lines of her tight, toned stomach as it disappeared behind her short blue skirt. Her legs were bare-and spectacular as always-and she wore a lovely pair of white, strappy heels that showcased her perfect dark blue pedicure. She carried her small handbag, and her eyes sparkled as she drew close, her rich brown hair pulled back into her customary ponytail.
‘Okay, dad, I’m ready,’ she smiled, kissing me on the cheek and thanking me for being patient. I smiled back and took her by the shoulders so I could take another look at her.
‘Sweetheart, you look amazing,’ I said, taking her in with a pang of fatherly sentiment as I realized how grown-up she had become. Jennifer blushed and waved my soppiness off with a giggle. I chuckled and shook my head. ‘No, honey, you really do. I’m so proud of you. You’re perfect. Did you do a fresh shave?’
Jennifer nodded, and I kissed her forehead.
‘Good job, honey. Let me check really quick.’
My daughter groaned and rolled her eyes. Even as grown-up as she had become, she still needed guidance and accountability, and that was my responsibility. I simply shot her a look that said I wasn’t messing around, and with another groan and a muttered complaint under her breath that I didn’t trust her, she raised her skirt and pulled the front of her panties down for me.
Up until recently I had done most of her grooming and hygiene, including bathing her and styling her pubic hair. Now that she had celebrated her Festival, it was time for her to take primary responsibility for these tasks, and she was still working on learning to maintain the standards that she needed to.
‘I do trust you, sweetheart,’ I said gently, kneeling in front of her and inspecting her work. She had gone with a narrow wisp of a landing strip, and as always her clitoris, peeking out from between her outer lips, gave me a little shock of primal joy at its perfection.
I ran my fingers along her mound and between her legs. The soft skin of her genitals, fresh from her shave and moisturizing, was even more velvety than usual. ‘It’s just that you’ve only done your own shaving a couple times, and this is a really important day. Four other dads will be sharing you, and it needs to be right. You want that too, don’t you?’
Jennifer sighed again and begrudgingly agreed, and shifted her feet so I could reach through her legs and check her perineum and anus. I was happy to find that she had done a very complete job, and with another kiss on the forehead I told her to pull up her panties and we headed out to join Dave and Layla.
The Kendricks had moved to our neighborhood about four years ago, and Jennifer and Layla had become fast friends. They were both extremely intelligent and very beautiful, and they were inseparable throughout high school, forming a formidable duo that made a mark in the theater department, the debate club, and the model UN.
She leapt from the car as we emerged from the house, and the girls squealed as they embraced; they hadn’t seen each other in a couple weeks since the Festival, which was unheard of for them. She then gave me a giant hug, as well.
‘Thank you so much for inviting us, Mr. Stevenson,’ she said
While Jennifer had done some cheer and gymnastics, Layla had excelled in track and basketball. She was a little taller than Jennifer, with long, powerful legs that met at a ridiculously perfect backside; this entire priceless apparatus was perfectly framed by her short, flouncy white skirt and sophisticated leather open-toe booties. Upstairs she was lean and graceful, and was blessed with a small, perky pair of B-cup breasts nearly identical to Jennifer’s that were showcased in a thin, ruffly cobalt blouse with a plunging neckline. Like my daughter, she didn’t need to wear a bra, and my hand brushed her nipple where it pressed against the light cotton.
In spite of her physical prowess, she was a lithesome, girlish creature, with delicate features, a pre-raphaelite jawline, and sparkling blue eyes that danced ceaselessly in search of adventure. Her father’s shock of fire-red hair had been tempered by her mother’s genes, and was bequeathed to her in the form of long, wavy, auburn tresses that tended toward copper at their ends.
I hugged her close and kissed her head. I was very much looking forward to this afternoon in general, but I was especially excited to have the opportunity to train Layla.
Over the years I had played every role from science fair project manager to philosophical debate moderating carpool driver to slumber party breakfast chef for Jennifer and her friends, and Layla had always been there. She’d seem to flirt with me occasionally in the tentative, awkward manner of a young girl experimenting cautiously with her burgeoning power over an older, larger male, and we’d had a couple of more intimate conversations about her plans for her life and challenges she was facing with boys or her teachers. I’d watched her become an incredibly beautiful and accomplished girl, and I’d imagined for a long time what she would be like to enjoy.
I’d invited Dave and Layla when Martin told me he’d had a cancellation, and a couple days later I was pleasantly surprised to find a letter in my mailbox from Layla confirming their RSVP.
In it she thanked me for inviting them, and asked if they should bring anything. Then she noted Jennifer’s unusual confidence when it came to matters of sexual training, and asked if I had any counsel that would help her feel as at ease as she embarked on her own training career. She detailed how her father’s business partner had come to the house the morning after the Festival and trained her in the kitchen before breakfast in front of her parents, and she highlighted how some of the parts of her session that made her apprehensive about the rest of her training.
She had never written me a letter before, and it was characteristic of the type of missive a girl would write to a man she was considering asking to be her mentor.
After their Festival, girls were required to accept lessons from any eligible male, at pretty much any time and any place. This ensured a broad sexual education that reinforced their understanding of their sex as a community asset.
Mentorship was an unofficial role in which a man might indulge a girl with a little additional personal attention, especially pertaining to things like answering questions or helping her develop specific skills that may require consistent practice involving more than a single lesson.
It was a position of trust and tutelage; typically a mentor would meet with his girl once every couple weeks for in-person skill tests and evaluations, and after a girl finished a training session with a regular eligible male, she would often write a short report and send it to her mentor, explaining what she had learned and asking any questions that she had; he could then help her debrief and contextualize her experiences, and be a steady voice of encouragement, duty, and knowledge for her as she negotiated the challenging realities of her new life.
Of course, none of this could compromise the rest of one’s training duties, but if there was some underlying connection or affection for the girl, it wasn’t uncommon for a man to carve out a little extra time now and then to help her develop.
It was a position that a girl was responsible to ask an eligible man to take, and I wondered if Layla was considering asking me to be hers. She would have discussed it carefully with Dave, and if he’d given his blessing, I was certainly flattered. I wasn’t sure if it was a commitment I could make at this point, but I decided to just wait and see if she sent me a letter with a formal request.
I climbed in the front seat and greeted Dave as he flashed me one of his brilliant smiles through his giant red mustache. He was a former firefighter who now owned a business downtown, and his powerful shoulders and twinkling green eyes made everyone around him feel safe and cared for. We were good friends, though certainly not as close as our daughters; we played on the same softball team and I’d contracted his company to do some work for one of my clients, and he was a solid guy.
As we made our way to the freeway to take us from Magnolia to the East side, where Martin lived in the upscale Clyde Hill neighborhood, he expressed his thanks for the invitation as well.
Layla should have been a top-three finisher at the Festival, but she took an unrecoverable points deduction when she flinched and pulled away as the judges inspected her anus; her loss of composure plunged her to a heartbreaking 15th place. Among other repercussions, it meant that she was required to submit to up to four training sessions per day for her first year, since she obviously needed more training, rather than the two sessions girls in the higher percentiles were allowed.
Dave was concerned both about preparing his daughter for the significant physical demands of the next year, as well as with building up her mental strength and comfort level so she could be more confident and less timid when offering men her body to explore and enjoy. Today’s party would help with both of these issues.
Martin Davis greeted us at the door of his large, sprawling contemporary house with a giant smile. We’d met him and his wife at a benefit auction last year; they were a vivacious couple, and we’d become good friends, spending several lovely family weekends with them last summer on their boat off of Montlake. He was in his sixties, but possessed the energy and enthusiasm of a much younger man. He was heavily built and tall, about six foot four, with a considerable belly, and his bushy white beard and the twinkle in his eye behind his spectacles gave him the undeniable air of an off-season Santa Claus.
He shook my hand as we entered, expressing his delight at having us join his party, and turned to Jennifer. She stood straight, clasping her hands behind her back, and thanked Martin with a smile for the invitation.
‘Ah, darling Jennifer, it is so good to see you and to have you in my home,’ he said. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips while he gently fondled the undersides of her breasts over her top; Jennifer kept her hands behind her back and let him taste her, and she giggled bashfully as he inhaled her scent with noisy chuffs, registering her pheromones with relish.
‘This is my friend, Dave Kendrick, and his daughter, Layla,’ I introduced everyone, and Martin seized Dave’s hand in his giant mitt and shook it warmly before greeting Layla as he had Jennifer.
Martin’s large downstairs rec room was comfortably furnished with oversized couches and chairs; along one wall was a collection of classic arcade games, and a sliding glass door opened to a lovely pool and deck.
‘Make yourselves at home,’ Martin said with a grand gesture toward the kitchenette counter, which was stocked with drinks and snacks. ‘There is plenty of wine and beer, so enjoy. Jennifer and Layla, I know you and the other girls are too young to drink, but there is juice and soda for you if you’d like some. Hydration is probably a good thing for you to focus on this afternoon,’ he chuckled.
‘And this is my next-door neighbor, Colonel Curt Ford, and his daughter, Kristen. This is Robert and Jennifer, and Dave and Layla. You should know that Jennifer placed first in her Festival last week-we’re honored to have a celebrity in the house,’ he chuckled.
I grabbed a beer and got Jennifer a coke, and we all shook hands. I was growing more excited about the afternoon by the minute.
The colonel was a clean-cut and very well-built fellow with a tight-cropped head of steel-gray hair and the quiet air of a career military man. He seemed kind, but not easily impressed or distracted by nonsense.
His daughter, Kristen, was a stunning leggy blond in the classic fashion model style. Her bare calves and thighs were mouth-watering as they disappeared beneath a short, diaphanous white A-line sundress that hung loosely on her lithe body; the sunlight streaming in from outside illuminated the fabric and revealed a hint of her dark areolas where her nipples pressed against the insubstantial cloth. Where Layla seemed younger than her years, Kristen seemed more mature-doubtless a product of her upbringing by her father.
Curt expressed his pleasure at meeting Jennifer, and congratulated her for her placing in the Festival. As he and Dave chatted her up, telling their daughters to pay close attention to Jennifer today so they could learn all they could from a Festival champion and improve their own desirability, an adorable little curly-haired blond walked in from the back yard.
She had evidently been tanning by the pool, and besides her sparkling smile she wore only a tiny green bikini. The top was hardly more than two little patches of fabric that barely concealed the areolas of her considerable breasts, and the bottoms-a minimal scrap of cloth meant to cover her slit, but so short that it failed to fully conceal her thick, blond landing strip-were no more substantial.
She was quite soft and curvy, with mischievous almond-shaped eyes behind a big pair of wireframe glasses that made her look like an adorable blond mouse, and a big smile.
Martin grinned as he hugged her to his side and kissed her head.
‘Ah, there you are sweetheart,’ he said, his hand resting comfortably on her naked backside as he turned her to us to make introductions. ‘Gentlemen, this is my granddaughter Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is everyone-oh, and there’s the doorbell. I believe our last guests have arrived. Make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll be right back.’
We chatted amongst ourselves until Martin returned a moment later with a slim, dark-haired man in his late thirties and a beautiful girl.
‘Folks, this is my good friend Levi Miller, and his daughter, Abigail.’
We greeted the new pair, and none of the fathers could take their eyes off of Abigail. She was slender, like her father. Her narrow waist accentuated her impressive bust, which we were somewhat puzzled to observe was enclosed in a substantial bra beneath her simple, long-sleeved top.
Her hips and long legs were concealed by a nicely fitted pair of jeans, which, in spite of how flattering they were, still stood out from the other girls’ notably less substantial attire. It was customary for girls of all ages to wear the minimum amount of clothing required in any situation, and it was frowned-upon for them to cover more than was necessary. Jeans were rarely worn by girls before October, and certainly not on a lovely sunny day like today.
She had haunting, dark doe eyes and thick lashes that were framed irresistibly by the thick brunette hair she’d pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her lips were strongly sculpted, and she had a giant, slightly gap-toothed smile that reminded me of the young classic actress from sixty years ago, Lara Brookes-and I was delighted to find that she also had a slight lisp. She was truly a stunning girl, and while she seemed polite and friendly, she had undeniable hints of shyness in her voice and mannerisms.
‘Levi and his family just moved here last week from outside Toronto-we used to work for the same data company, and we met on a project together about ten years ago in Amsterdam. He’s a great friend, and it’s wonderful that he got himself transferred down here,’ Martin continued.
That explained the clothing-Canada had not followed our path to the cultural norms we now enjoyed, and I could only imagine how monumental this move must be for this young girl. It was our job to make her feel welcome and safe.
Levi thanked everyone for having them, and said he was excited for the afternoon. I sensed that he shared a similar apprehension as his daughter, but I was confident that he’d warm up quickly once things got underway.
Now that all the guests had arrived, Martin made sure we all had drinks, then led us into the main area and took a spot standing at the fireplace while he waited for us to get settled in the chairs and couches to begin the party. Elizabeth, still in her bikini, sat next to him on the fireplace ledge and pressed her body lovingly against his leg.
I picked a big recliner and Jennifer sat on my lap; as my hand came to rest on the side of her bare butt cheek where her short skirt had ridden up, she leaned down and kissed me.
‘I love you, Daddy,’ she whispered, ‘Thank you for doing this party for me…and with me.’
I melted a little at my little girl’s gratitude, and squeezed her butt as I returned her kiss.
‘Of course, sweetheart,’ I whispered back, ‘I love you so much. I’m always going to take care of you.’
Standing at the fireplace with a big smile, our host patted his nearly naked granddaughter on the head, raised his beer, and welcomed everyone to the festivities.
‘I’ve held these father-daughter parties for years. I did them for each of my four girls, and I hosted quite a number of them for friends. As you can see,’ he said, gesturing around the large room, ‘Marie and I have been blessed with a home suited to comfortably entertaining the special people in our life, so I was always happy to offer it to our neighbors or to my buddies who wanted to hold their own father-daughter parties. But it’s been about ten years since the last one, so this is a special night for me, certainly, and I hope you all enjoy it as well.
We all raised our own drinks and cheered.
‘Of course, my girls are all quite grown now. However, unfortunately my son, Elizabeth’s father, had to travel unexpectedly for work this week, in spite of the Festival, and so she is staying with Marie and me.
‘I stepped up to the occasion and exhibited her last week, and she placed quite well, so I’m feeling pretty good about it-not too bad for an old dog who hasn’t handled a girl on stage in a couple decades,’ he laughed, affectionately mussing his granddaughter’s hair, ‘but who am I kidding-the quality of this little body speaks for itself. Her scores are a result of her hard work. I’m very proud of you, honey.
‘In any case, since she’s in my care for the next few days, I thought it was a great opportunity to have one of these parties to start her training, so thank you all for joining us.
‘I think we all know each other by now, at least by name, and I got the payments from everyone, right? Good, thank you. All of that money is for the food and drinks, the prizes, and for the cleaners to come tomorrow morning and go through here. Marie told me years ago that I could have as many of these parties as I wanted, but she’d better never come down here the next day and find ANY evidence.’
As everyone chuckled knowingly, I glanced over at Levi and Abigail. Her eyes were wide and her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white, and she pressed herself stiffly against her father’s side as she tittered nervously. Levi’s eyes were also wide, but in what seemed more like delight than terror, and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him as he joined in the laughter. Martin continued.
‘I want to talk for a moment about why we’re here, then go briefly over the plan for the afternoon and we can get started.
‘As we know, once a girl celebrates her Festival, her sexual education is a priority. The responsibility for that education falls to us eligible males, who have had at least one daughter celebrate her Festival. It’s a responsibility I think we all take very seriously.
‘There is much to learn, and the time is short, which means girls need to be ready for lessons at nearly any time, anywhere-lessons that can cover practically every sexual topic.
‘Obviously this is good, and right, and certainly in line with the natural order of things. And as fathers we want the best, most stimulating and most effective education for our girls, so they can lead healthy, useful, and successful lives.
‘Also obviously, however, this is a huge adjustment for a young, 18-year-old girl who has just lost her virginity, and again, as fathers ourselves, we are also all too aware of the…er…vigorous…nature of some of our favorite lessons to teach young girls-and so it makes sense to help them ease into this new life rather than thrusting them into it wholesale the day after their Festival.’
Another understanding chuckle went up from the men. Dave raised his hand.
‘It is definitely eye-opening when your daughter celebrates her Festival,’ he said, ‘I know that when I get underway in a lesson-especially on a really fresh, healthy girl-things can get a little crazy.
‘Normally I don’t worry about it, because of course nature has marvelously designed these little bodies,’ he said, taking the giggling Layla by the shoulders and shaking her gently with a smile, ‘to withstand pretty much any demands the male libido may make in order to achieve release.
‘But when you imagine your darling girl getting that same type of treatment from any number of random men,’ he continued soberly, hugging Layla to him and kissing her tenderly on the forehead as we nodded in agreement, ‘it’s…a little scary.
‘Even though I know she’ll be ok, and I know that it’s the right way to raise a girl, I worry about her feeling overwhelmed or frightened or inadequate if she gets trained by guys who aren’t paying attention to her experience in the moment-let alone several of them a day.’
Such a warm show of concern was unexpected coming from the big fireman, and was quite touching. Jennifer pressed herself closer to me and kissed me again, and I gave her a smile and a squeeze; she had expressed similar reservations the day after her Festival, and that conversation was precisely why I’d decided to join Martin’s father-daughter party. Fortunately she already seemed to enjoy sex, but the reality that she was now required to share her body with any man who wanted to enjoy it was understandably still very new and a bit uncomfortable for her.
‘Well, and that doesn’t even account for the emotional challenge they face,’ Curt agreed in a low, commanding voice that didn’t need to be loud to make you want to sit up straighter, ‘I mean, we watch them grow up as little girls with Disney princess dreams. Of course, true love will come and they’ll be happily married someday to a wonderful man,’ he said, smiling at his daughter Kristen, ‘but helping them understand that they need to set that stuff aside for a few years and commit themselves to their training first is a big adjustment.
‘Certainly romance can be a part of sex, but at the end of the day it’s about understanding the natural order of things-men are driven by powerful biological urges, and girls have a biological responsibility to be the outlet for those urges. It’s their fundamental evolutionary purpose.
‘So yes, often it’s not about the mushy stuff-most of the time, a girl is going to be chosen for training by a man primarily because he’s imagining certain things he wants to do to her. Her duty is to offer herself to satisfy whatever needs he has-and let’s face it, those needs often won’t entail much affection or tenderness. I mean, most eligible men are happily married anyways.
‘It’s really important, I think, to work on teaching a girl how to draw her fulfillment simply from providing satisfaction to whomever is training her. It’s not that her orgasms or pleasure are secondary to his; it’s about helping her associate and obtain those happy things from the fact that a man is taking his pleasure with her body.
‘Fulfilling my biological purpose by coupling with a girl is immensely pleasurable to me, and it only makes sense that a properly trained girl should take just as much pleasure from fulfilling her own biological purpose by being the recipient of those urges. That just takes some time and consistent guidance, I think.’
Dave agreed.
‘My first daughter, Samantha, celebrated her Festival about five years ago,’ he said. ‘I think that sometimes, especially if you’ve been eligible for a few years like I have, and you’ve gotten accustomed to training half a dozen or so females each week, you can forget how young they really are when they begin their lessons.
‘Sure, the law mandates that a girl must begin training at eighteen, but that’s just a number-I mean, goodness, they’re honestly still practically kids.
‘When Samantha came of age, I didn’t know about parties like this, so she started a full training schedule literally the day after her Festival. It was a little rough for a few months-pretty much every night, after whoever had come to the house to train her had finished and left, she’d come into our room in tears wanting to sleep in our bed.
‘We had to put our foot down, and we hired a counselor to help her adjust, and eventually she came around and ended up loving her training. But I always felt that there could have been a better way to support her early on-so, thank you for putting this together.
‘I, for one, certainly like the idea of having a few fellows that I know and trust assist Layla with understanding her responsibilities and help her feel like she can handle the next few years before I leave her to the mercy of the rest of the public.’
There was a chorus of agreement from the rest of us, and Martin nodded.
‘And that’s precisely why it’s customary to give a girl a chance to acclimate over the first few weeks of her new life,’ he said, ‘she’s generally expected to have fewer lessons than she will normally have, and they are often chaperoned by her father, and usually confined to close friends or even extended family.
‘Father-daughter parties like this are another great way to smooth a girl’s transition to her new role. Together, we can give each of these lovely young women the opportunity to get more comfortable with servicing a variety of different bodies and experimenting with various styles and techniques in the safest, most supportive environment possible-just as I’m sure each of you are hoping the other fathers here will do for your daughter.’
Levi spoke up for the first time.
‘Well, I’d just like to say how much I appreciate Martin and all of you welcoming Abigail and me,’ the soft-spoken Canadian said, ‘we just moved here Monday, so this is all really new to us, and everyone’s been super kind and helpful. I think this party will definitely help us learn more about how this all works as we make this transition, and I’m sure we’ll have lots of questions for you all.’
‘Wait, so you don’t have the Festival in Canada?’ Dave asked.
‘Nothing even remotely like it,’ Levi replied, ‘it’s still pretty old-fashioned in a lot of ways there. We lived in the same small community I grew up in, and it’s pretty rural and conservative. Our church was very strict, and it’s just become evident over the past few years that there were some things missing; it was time for a change and we needed to start new somewhere. We need to build a life that works for us, and allows us to raise our kids the way we think makes the most sense.’
There was a moment of silence as the other fathers processed this information. It was almost barbaric to imagine a country which had no formal process for teaching and equipping its young girls to succeed at their sexual life’s role-it seemed heartless to simply let one’s daughter’s reproductive hormones run unchecked after her adolescence, to take no fatherly responsibility for educating her about her sexuality and its responsibilities, and to abandon her to learn about her body from the sorry grab-bag of emotionally and physically immature teen-age boys at her school, who, aside from having no idea what they were doing, surely had no right to enjoy nearly exclusive access to young girls’ bodies.
Things used to be that way in the US, not that long ago. But the changes had happened before we were born, and it struck us all as strange that such a clearly superior social system as we had adopted fifty years ago hadn’t caught on more widely with our North American neighbors.
This meant that Abigail hadn’t celebrated her Festival. It meant that she hadn’t been raised with the understanding that upon reaching young adulthood, she’d begin a rigorous sexual education from men at least old enough to be her father.
She didn’t have a choice now, though; as a female of Festival age she was subject to the same legal obligations as any girl who had been born here. Her wide eyes hinted at the inner tumult she must have been experiencing as she began to come to grips with her civic duties.
Of course this meant that Levi had had a very different sexual experience than the rest of us, as well. Without presuming to imagine how adventurous his sex life with his wife over the course of the past eighteen years was, it was doubtful he’d ever had the unfettered access to young female bodies that he was now on the cusp of enjoying as part of his permament residency in the US. Doubtless, this move was a momentous one for the whole family.
‘Well, this is a big day then,’ Curt said warmly, ‘glad you’re here, and I think we’re all happy to be part of your welcoming committee. Obviously we do things a little differently than you’re used to, but I’m pretty confident you’ll see our way of life has a lot of advantages.’
‘Wait, Levi,’ Dave interjected, ‘you just moved here a week ago-have you even done any training sessions yet?’
Levi shook his head.
‘No, it’s been a busy week with unpacking the house and getting set up at my new job. This is going to be my first experience with this, so don’t judge me too harshly, ok?’
We all laughed and assured him he’d do great.
‘It’s why I’m so glad how serendipitously today worked out,’ Martin chuckled, ‘Elizabeth having to stay with us for a week, the Festival, and then Levi and his family moving here as well-it was a perfect time to have this party. I thought it’d be a great way to jumpstart their new life here-let Levi train four girls right off the bat to get a sense of what it’s like, with us to help him out and answer any questions; and help Abigail get past any of her reservations by pushing her into the pool, so to speak, with four good, knowledgeable fathers all at once.
‘The goal for today is to help these girls gain a better grasp of their responsibilities, capabilities, talents, and tastes. We want to help them explore, and we also need to push them to embrace the unknown and the uncomfortable, since those will certainly be common elements in their training in the future.
‘We want them to be confident and able to handle themselves when their profile goes live on the training database next week and they get their green ID cards, and their schedules begin to fill with lessons from whatever eligible men *********** them each day.’
We all voiced our agreement, and Martin continued.
‘Well alright then, let’s get this party started!’ he announced with a jolly laugh and his customary twinkle in his eye, ‘Here’s the plan: as you can see, we have plenty of comfortable furniture-several big sectionals, the lounge along that wall, and I’ve set up the pull-out sofa bed over there. There are plenty of beverage ***********ions right over there, and I have a big pile of soft, clean bath towels here by the fireplace for anything that needs to be cleaned.
‘We want to make this as beneficial for the girls as possible, so go ahead and plan on doing pretty much what you would do in a normal training session, but perhaps throttle it back just a little and let’s pay attention to making sure they understand what you’re doing, and why, and how they can learn to better enjoy it.
‘Now, I know that in a normal training session we don’t have many qualms about testing a girl’s limits; if you find something you feel is worthwhile to spend some time on, it’s her responsibility to do her very best to succeed or master whatever you’re introducing her to. But for today, let’s focus more on discovering these girls’ limits, rather than challenging them. They’re brand new, so I think it’s profitable to explore lots of things with them today and figure out what they are comfortable doing or capable of withstanding. That way they’ll have a better idea what they can work on, or how to build on those capabilities in their future training.
‘If a girl is doing alright, we can push her a little-find out what subjects are challenging for her, and let’s see if we can help her expand her comfort zone a bit.
‘If a girl seems to be struggling, then obviously her father can help as needed to explain or coach. But I’d recommend giving your daughters as much space as you can today, and trust the other fathers do their work as they see fit.
‘Our party today will consist of four sections, which correspond to the phases of a typical training session: Exploration, Copulation, Ejaculation, and Relaxation.
‘We’ll start by having the girls undress, and we’ll spread out and pick a station and each take a girl. I have a timer here, and you’ll have five minutes with each girl to explore her physically-you can touch her wherever you want, get to know her body, think about how you want to enjoy her, or what you want to have her practice on you, or what you want to teach her. Certainly you can taste her if you want, or have her begin fellatio. Just help her feel at ease and help her have fun, and let her start getting more comfortable with being inspected by a variety of hands and eyeballs.
‘Every five minutes the girls will rotate clockwise and we’ll continue the process. We’ll arrange it so that your daughter arrives at your station on the fifth rotation-his is a good time to check in with her, make sure she’s doing alright, and then we’ll move to the next portion.
‘When we begin the Copulation section, the men will undress and we’ll each have ten minutes to make whatever use we think best of each girl. However you want to have her, do it-but again, in the interests of helping them learn, I’d caution against anything too wild. There will be plenty of time to explore advanced sexual stuff later-let’s make sure they enjoy today, and are actually looking forward to exploring the tougher stuff down the road.
‘Once again, when the timer goes off the girls will rotate to the next father, and your daughter will pass through in the fifth rotation.
‘The goal is to refrain from orgasm until you’ve made it through all four girls. After we complete this phase, we’ll start the Ejaculation portion.
‘We’ll be about an hour-and-a-half in at this point, and you’ll probably be quite on edge by then. You’ll now get to choose which girl you want to finish with, and how you’d like to give her your semen. You may certainly team up with another father and share a girl, if that’s agreeable to both men. You may fuck her in whatever manner and for however long you need to finish, and you can ejaculate wherever you think is most educationally valuable for the girl you feel has earned your cum.’
As Martin had described the plan for the day, I noticed Jennifer’s gaze had traveled around the room, lingering on each of the other men as they listened, holding their daughters close. She took in every detail of their faces, their mannerisms, and their bodies with the new knowledge that each one was going to take his turn with her, and her eyes shone as she leaned down and whispered in my ear, ‘Oh my gosh, daddy, I’m so wet. This is going to be so fun!’
I smiled and kissed her. ‘I’m glad you’re looking forward to this, sweetheart. I am too.’
‘Afterwards, we’ll go outside for the final portion of our official party agenda, Relaxation, and enjoy the sun and the pool and you all can hang out as long as you like this afternoon,’ Martin continued, ‘there’s plenty to drink, I’ll grill some steaks later, and as soon as we recover from this first session we can continue availing ourselves of the girls as often as we feel so inclined.’
He was interrupted by a disappointed Abigail, who blurted out, ‘Oh man, I didn’t bring a swimsu…ohhhh,’ before blushing furiously as she realized no one would be wearing any swimsuits, least of all her.
We laughed, and I playfully shoved Jennifer off my lap as Martin took Elizabeth by the hand and had her stand up, and invited the other girls to join her at the fireplace and undress.
Jennifer, Kristen and Layla made their way to the front of the room, disrobing as they went, while Martin instructed his granddaughter to hold her hair up so he could untie her bikini top.
She giggled as she complied, her big eyes behind her glasses looking coyly at the ceiling as her grandfather slipped her breasts free. It was obvious the bubbly little blond shared a close and special bond with her jolly grandfather; it was beautiful to see the trust between them, and how much the girl loved his attention and his touch.
She was incredibly cute; short, quite curvy, with heavy breasts that hung a bit low and a soft smoothness to her belly and hips that made her seem very cuddly. Her nipples were surprisingly large, and quite lightly colored; and her curly blond hair was worn pulled to one side, a bright streak of pink slicing through it.
Pulling her bottoms down over her butt, Martin bent to help her step out of them. Elizabeth steadied herself with a hand on his head, and he snuck a quick kiss to the side of her breast as it swung with her movements.
I was beside myself to see that not only was her full, blond bush the same color as her hair, it even had a matching pink streak. I guessed she was a nerdy type-probably played a lot of role-playing fantasy games, read comic books, and loved science fiction. I couldn’t wait to explore her tantalizing patch of fur and find out what delicious treasures were hidden inside.
As Martin gathered up his granddaughter’s bikini and set it on the fireplace ledge, he kissed her forehead with a smile and a squeeze of her butt before taking his seat, and I turned my attention to Kristen.
She was gorgeous, there was no doubt of that. High cheekbones, blue eyes, and a long, lean body that belonged in a magazine. Or that belonged, for that matter, right here, ready to fulfill its purpose and be enjoyed as it was meant to be. She stood very straight, with a strong set to her jaw even when she smiled-probably part of growing up in a military family. Often a girl of her length and leanness would be nearly flat-chested, but she had been blessed with small yet fully-formed breasts that hung with a tangible weight in spite of their lack of size; one might have described them as ‘pouting’.
Layla Kendrick was killing me, though. Statuesque was a cliche, but it was the most apt adjective I could think of. Her powerful haunches spoke of her domination on the track, and perfect dimples kissed her legs behind her knees, seeming to point the way upward along the backs of her thighs to the clean, curved crease that separated them from her impossibly perfect bubble butt.
She was perfectly engineered as an athlete and, moving upstairs from her powerful motors below decks, the lines of her belly, softened by what still remained of her puppy fat, arced upward past an exquisite belly button to two gorgeous, streamlined breasts. Not much bigger than bee stings, they were just large enough to form lovely curves along their bottoms, and her nipples were small coral pink buttons set in a matching pair of cleanly-defined areolas. Her brilliant smile and the scattering of freckles across her pert nose were perfect complements to the innocent, freshly waxed slit that nestled between her thick thighs below a neat little triangular patch of soft, dark pubic hair. I loved absolutely all of it.
Levi gave a low whistle as he took in the wealth in front of him.
‘Guys, I’ve been a fan of the way you do things here for years-and I can hardly believe that I’m actually here, and this is real life. This is just too much goodness.’
Martin slapped him on the back as everyone laughed, but we were interrupted by a quiet sob from Abigail.
The other girls were calmly chatting in low whispers as they stood at the fireplace, an unexpectedly cool breeze visiting momentarily from the deck causing them to giggle and press their naked bodies together, and the impish Elizabeth was hamming it up by posing like a Charlie’s Angel in front of, beside, and up against the other three girls.
Abigail had been the last one up to the front, and while the other girls had quickly shed their clothing, she had only managed to remove her jeans and her shirt. She reached slowly to unclasp her bra, but as she pulled the garment free and revealed her breasts to the roomful of men, a tear welled in her eye and she made the mournful sound we all heard.
Levi leapt to her side and took his nearly naked daughter in his arms. He was in full dad mode, and the only thing he cared about was comforting Abigail, regardless of how little clothing she was wearing.
‘Sweetheart, are you okay? What’s the matter?’
Abigail shook her head and tried to dry her eyes, throwing her palms up. ‘Dad, I can’t. I just don’t think I can do this. How can I do this?’
Levi held her close, seemingly unsure of how to respond. Martin, sensing that he may be considering taking Abigail home, gently took Levi’s shoulder and asked if he could talk to Abigail. Levi nodded and took his place on the couch again as Martin sat on the fireplace ledge and had Abigail stand in front of him, holding both her hands in his.
‘Dear girl,’ he said kindly, his big white beard breaking into his customary smile, ‘we understand that this is a big change for you, and we’re all here to help make it better for you. What is troubling you right now?’
Abigail pulled her right hand free and covered her breasts with her arm. It was a slightly shocking faux pas from someone unfamiliar with our customs; young girls were trained to never hide their bodies from being enjoyed by others. Martin chose to ignore her mis-step for the moment.
‘I’ve just never…done this,’ she whispered to him, her eyes pleading with him to understand her embarrassment, ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m afraid of disappointing you guys, or that I’ll do something wrong. Or that…it’ll hurt. Or…I don’t know…that you won’t think I’m…pretty…when I’m…naked,’ she said softly, her gaze downcast and her cheeks reddening.
She was gentle and soft-spoken, and her slight lisp made her seem as sensitive and delicate as she was sweet. Her ears were adorably just ever-so-slightly too big, and stuck out a bit from under her simple ponytail like an innocent farm girl.
Martin tilted her chin and looked her in the eyes. ‘Ah, Abigail, those are all scary things you’ve just mentioned. I can see why you’d feel this way. Tell me, did you and your family talk about what this move would mean for you?’
Abigail nodded. ‘Yes, we talked a lot. And we all agreed that it was for the best. I understand why we’re doing this. And I want to be good at…sex…and everything, but, I mean, I’m scared-I just suddenly felt a lot less prepared than I thought I was.’
‘Actually, dear girl, you’re exactly as prepared as you should be!’ Martin exclaimed warmly. ‘That is precisely why we’re all here. I promise, you are among friends. Everyone here thinks you’re beautiful and precious, and we are planning on spending the entire afternoon showing you. In fact we believe every girl is beautiful and precious, so trust me, you will always be treated with respect and honor, and no one is ever going to injure you-that would never be tolerated, anywhere.
‘Also, remember that no one owns you or is the boss of you. Outside of your training, no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do. Within the context of your training, of course, you are required to be absolutely compliant, but that’s for your own benefit.
‘And think of how wonderful this move is for your father. Living here, men like him have far fewer health issues, much less stress, and much greater life expectancy. I know you want all those benefits for him.
‘You can’t do a thing wrong, dear girl-you’re perfect, and as long as you listen closely and do what each of us says when we’re working with you, you’ll learn fast, feel amazing, and have as wonderful a time today as you deserve. Everything we do TO you, we want to feel good FOR you-so trust us, trust your dad, and you’ll do wonderfully. Does that sound like something you can do, or at least try for this afternoon?’
Abigail turned and looked at her father, silently mouthed ‘I love you,’ then nodded to Martin. ‘Yes, sir. I think I can.’
‘Good girl,’ Martin smiled broadly, then switched to a serious tone, ‘Now listen to me, Abigail-have you had sex?’
(Continued in Ch. 9b)