Aly Starts Regression Training

"Oh yes. They're lovely. Thank you Mr. Tupper," she says in a sing-song voice, then gets up and bends to carefully pick up the new outfit behind her. She's ever so careful and takes her time.

"Make yourself comfortable, Nigel," I say as we wait, and I see his movement in the deep armchair as he unzips and releases his cock. His left arm is moving as he strokes slowly. Aly turns her head to glances behind her and does a wide-eyed double-take. "Wow," she says, "that's big".

It's not really, but she knows instinctively how to flatter a man and get him ready.

She turns back to us and dresses in the new outfit—heart panties, pretend training bra trapping her B-cup breasts, yellow flouncy sundress, frilly blouse, and short white socks. She even puts two matching yellow ribbons in her hair, one on each side.

***

She pirouettes slowly in the middle of the room, scanning Nigel's and my faces for approval. We of course are long past approval, we are completely bowled over at the transformation. Like most freshman college girls she usually presents as drab and lumpy as a bag of potatoes. That's not the case now, and Nigel's left hand is working double time.

"Aly, do you notice the state Nigel is in? Do you think he might need a hand? You should have noticed this by yourself and offered to help. You have to learn. Now get over there and help him out."

"But dad, that's not fair. I don't want to. His thing smells. Can't I just try on more clothes?"

"No you may not, young lady. You know what's expected of you. Now do it!" and I get out of my chair and nape grip her.

I move her into kneeling position between his knees. I fluff out her sundress then bend her forward with my left hand nape grip, and lower my right hand to grip her pussy from behind. I can now guide her forward to his cock. I push her head down till she takes it. Then I sit down again, unzip myself, and watch.

For ten minutes all I see is Aly on her knees between his legs, largely hidden from view. Her bottom sticks out in its yellow sundress glory—a nodding sunflower comes to mind—while the top of her head is just visible above the padded arm rests. Her head and yellow ribbons bob up and down with Nigel's fingers wound in her hair. After ten minutes she stops moving and he goes rigid, lifts his pelvis up off he chair, grips her head tight, and groans.

"Fuck and shit," he says, and a minute later I hear his cock pull from her mouth with a plop.

I get up and nape grip her again before she can get up, and with my right hand reach to her pussy and swiftly bring her off. She needs as many after-glows as possible if she is to get accustomed to following my will. As she cums, her cunt clamps my fingers tightly and quivers, and she moans into Nigel's crotch. He's as dazed as a stunned mullets as she collapses into his crotch, breathing hard. I sit down again.

"What grade would you give her, Nig," I ask, and he replies, "Definitely an A+ for enthusiasm, skill and results, though only an B+ for initiative because you had to coach her. All in all, excellent work by young Miss Alison."

"Yes, she learned a lot in her gap year before college, and is technically skilled, but she is now in remedial training. She's still learning her family role and place in the world."

I can't keep the pride from my voice, and Aly's face lights up at the praise and acknowledgement. She sits back on her haunches and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

***

At that moment Mybell comes in with a tray of drinks. There are two beers for Nig and me, and a fizzy for Aly. Mybell has a shandy. As she gives Aly her fizzy, she carefully wipes some cream and spittle from Aly's chin.

"Are you having a good time, Aly baby?" she asks, and adds with a proud motherly smile, "I'm sure you're being very helpful."

"Thank you, Mymy," Aly answers. It's the first time I've heard her address Mybell with that affectionate diminutive. It seems very fitting. "I tried really really hard," she says, and beams.

***

After Nigel has gone I tell Aly to hang all her new clothes in her closet, and pack all her college clothes into the suitcase. Then she must haul the suitcase—it's almost bigger than she is—down to my studio and put it at the back of the store room. I tell her it'll stay there until she goes back to college. Until then she should wear the new clothes that Mr. Tupper brought her. Then she should come back to the living room. There's a hint of relief in her face as she listens to my clear instructions. She needs direction.

After she's done that she comes back. Mybell and I are waiting, talking quietly. Aly stands in front of us in her sundress, blouse and ribbons—all slightly disheveled—and faces us. Her hands twist together in front, as if protecting her, and her right foot swivels towards the left and twists slowly back and forth. Her head is bowed and she's avoiding eye contact.

She's not sure what has been happening today, only that it has been exciting, fun and exhausting. She loves this new life—it's almost like she's play acting a new Aly—except it is very very real, and her still raw pussy and aching jaw remind her it's not playacting.

I know what she's thinking. It's "that old Aly must have been a fake, I'm glad she's gone, and I'm glad I'm a new me."

And at that thought her eye's snap up, and she sees me watching. Our eyes connect, her body straightens, her feet turn parallel and straight, and stop twisting. Her hands fall to her side, palm out.

"Aly, I see you're paying attention now. I have some important things to tell you. Your life is going to be different from now on. And better. But you must always do what I say, or what your Mymy says, even if you don't want to. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Simply stated.

"This next part may be a bit hard to understand, but do you know how when you're jilling, it never feels as good as when I'm fingering you? Or when you're fucking yourself with a dildo, it never feels as good as my cock? Well the same sort of thing applies to your whole life, only you don't know it yet. Your education began today. In future you are going to learn that almost everything you enjoy—or hate—is going to go better when I tell you what to do, when I instruct and command and even force you. You'll learn it's like sex—always better when someone else is in control.

"Partly you're learning this so you'll know what it really means to be a family female. Your mother shielded you from this knowledge, and I blame myself for not doing better. But that changes today. You're going to learn to be a female in this family, the full role and expectations. It will make it better for you, for the family, for me, for your Mymy, and for any future man I may give you to. It's called 'regression training'.

"Finally, starting tomorrow at 6am sharp you are going to learn the business, The Family Practice. You've enjoyed the profits your entire young life, and now it's time to get involved and help make the profits. You have a good business head on your shoulders and your college courses will be an asset. Next year when you're a sophomore you will change to a double major in Business and Communications.

"One day you'll run the operation under me."

Aly is standing up straight and looking directly at me. A posture of pride and confidence. She speaks clearly, with her new high pitched—and strong—voice. "I'm ready. Just tell me."

At that I know I'm over the hump, so to speak.

***

For the rest of the afternoon I organize my gameplay to introduce Aly to the entire TFP business—the value proposition, business model, inventory of raw and packaged content, technology, and—most importantly—the talent base, the hundreds of family members mastered, recorded and monetized over the years.

She must become familiar with all my family member's videos, pictures and merchandise. She must understand who appeals best to which clients and why, and how we manage them. Each needs her own particular blend of incentives and discipline to keep performing at peak earning potential. Talent management is core to the business, and Aly's understanding of the family female role will be core to our talent management. The better she understands how to be a family female, the better she can manage our stable of family females. She has to learn the product from the ground up, and she can't do it without regression training. We've started just in time.

While I'm doing that, Aly is in her room organizing her new clothes, and then helps Mybell get dinner ready. I sometimes hear the low murmur of their voices as they work, sometimes quiet, sometimes giggling, sometimes laughing. I picture them standing close. At one point when I take a break to get a cup of coffee, they're laughing uproariously as I enter—Mybell's voice low, Aly's high—but stop immediately and look at me, their eyes shining. When I leave they start up again.

At dinner, we sit down as a family. Aly has changed into a lovely pastel blue pinafore and light pink blouse and is on best behavior. She helps serve the meal. She's beaming and delightful, a lovely hostess. She keeps her towel straight. As we eat we chatter about the future. Aly wants to know about regression training—and I know Mybell secretly wants to know about my other promise—but I talk about other plans and dreams. The biggest things in life must keep their mystery.

***

That night Mybell and I retire early—we're both exhausted—but I still attend to business before sliding into bed with her.

"I'll be right back," I say, "just going to settle Aly."

Aly is in bed waiting expectantly, but tonight is not about her and I bypass the niceties. It's not all about her and she needs to be ready whenever I am. I pull the sheet back, flip her onto her back, pull up her new nightie—a regression special—and settle between her legs. She grunts as I enter and shortly leave my calling card. Her cunt clamps then quivers, milking me as she cums. I stay inside until I soften then pull out slowly with a plop. My tongue is the last to leave. Maybe I'll get her braces. She's already asleep.

I tell her slowly breathing form, "All settled. You know Mymy and I love you. See you at six. Sleep tight."

***

Mybell cleans me up when I slip back into bed still sloppy from Aly,. As she does I watch her breasts jiggle. But how can barely B cups jiggle? They're barely there. I reach out and cup one where they dangle before my eyes. It's a nice handful, but slightly larger than usual. I squeeze to check and Mybell winces. She frees her mouth from my cock long enough to say, "Ouch, they're a bit swollen and painful tonight. I don't know why." and returns to her task.

Her scent is filing the room and I'm feeling particularly particularly protective tonight, so I cup her dangling tits gently when I mount and cover her from behind ten minutes later.

"Thank you, Father," she says when she slides forward onto her belly, satisfied.

She's quickly dozing. Half asleep, she murmurs, "Aly is a lucky girl to have you."