Brain Development Enterprises Ch. 08

My heart wasn't in the code.

It might seem like a strange thing to think, for someone who doesn't know coding as well as I do. But software is just like art to the people who understand it. It requires creativity, a way to look at the problem and see a solution, an elegance in its efficiency and execution. Good code is, I would argue, as artistic as a painting or a famous old book.

Only today my art was crap.

I pushed back from the desk and rubbed my hand across my face. I was having a hard time working on the Morrison project. My mind was elsewhere.

The strangest thing about this morning had been how not strange it had been. Waking up next to McKenzie instead of Barbara felt normal, like this was how things were supposed to be. I'd risen before 6 o'clock, as was becoming the norm, and I listened to my BDE recording. I'd decided to try shifting my daily self-hypnosis to the beginning of the day instead of the end, and I had been rewarded with a surge of energy and rejuvenation that felt almost as good as a fresh cup of coffee. It vitalized me through my run, and I extended the distance today even though I hadn't intended to.

No word from Barbara.

McKenzie seemed to think that she would come around. She acted certain of it, in fact, but I couldn't help but have doubts. My wife was still hung up on the idea of her daughter and her husband being together. Hell, I should have been hung up on it.

As long as I'd been an adult, as long as I'd been aware of things like kinks and fetishes and taboos, "incest" had been a dirty word on the edge of my radar. Only now, it didn't seem so dirty. It seemed rational, a normal reaction to attraction between a father and his stepdaughter. When I tried to consider Barbara's perspective in a rational light, I ran into a mental block that couldn't take her seriously. Like how an atheist might think of God as an outdated fantasy. Or how a city slick would look at a rural farmer and think them quaint.

I am a Man. A Man does what he pleases. A Man takes who he wishes. A Man thinks for himself.

I shook my head and clicked away from my coding IDE. I'd come back to it in a moment, once I'd cleared my head.

I was going to go to my mini fridge and grab a sports drink — McKenzie had convinced me last week to swap out my standard-issue Redbulls for something less heavy on the caffeine and more heavy on the electrolytes — when I saw that I had a new email.

I didn't want to check, on the off chance it was Allison with another outrageous demand, but I gamely sighed and sat back down. Allison wouldn't bother emailing me, anyhow, I decided. If she wanted to retaliate for my outburst yesterday she would strut in here looking distractingly sexualized and do it in person.

I clicked the desktop app and pulled up my work email, scanning the New Mail column.

RE: A Curious Customer.

I stopped short.

My eyes flickered to the door of the office and then back to the computer. It was BDE. They'd finally gotten back to me.

I was strangely nervous, and I pondered it as I slowly pushed back from the desk and fetched a Gatorade from my fridge. Unscrewing the top, I took a long draw of the bright red liquid.

It's nothing to worry about, John, I told myself. But actually interacting with the company who had changed my life so radically... It felt daunting.

I considered the bolded subject line for several long seconds. Then, I quickly moved my mouse across the screen and clicked. There was no fanfare, no jump scare, no anything. Just the normal execution of an everyday function.

My eyes scanned down the email quickly.

RE: A Curious Customer

Dear John,

I am delighted to hear that you have been seeing results. Our products are designed to change lives, but even so they require hard work and dedication on behalf of our customers. It is always a pleasure to speak with someone who is willing to put in that effort. Your success motivates me to continue my work.

Any questions you have about side effects or changes you may be seeing, please send them my way. We spend much of our time and energy in research, development and testing. But there is always the chance that 'in the field' our products encounter circumstances which alter your individual experience.

Sincerest regards,

Oliver King

CEO and Founder, Brain Development Enterprises

Wait... I paused and reread the final byline. CEO? I blinked. It couldn't be... I kept scrolling down and there was a headshot at the end of the email. It was an image of a face I recognized. Mr. Silver Fox. In my surprise, I almost didn't notice the postscript at the very bottom of the letter.

P.S. I am always interested to hear the exploits of men who find our products life changing. Will you have time this week to hop on a video call to tell me your story? I am currently out of the country but will make myself available anytime.

I shook my head and sat back. "Damn..." I muttered softly, then scratched my jaw. "Wow..." I wondered what kind of company let their founder answer routine customer service emails. Was I just lucky? Or did the man truly care that much about his clients that he answered them personally?

I found the idea inspiring.

I rested my fingers on the keyboard, then pulled them back. Suddenly, nervousness swept over me again. I felt like I had just seen a celebrity walk into the restaurant where I was having dinner and was considering asking them for an autograph.

Did I have the courage to respond?

I am a Man. I am the Master of my emotions. I am the Master of my actions.

Of course I have the courage, I told myself firmly. I clicked the backwards-swooping "Reply" arrow.

Dear Mr. King...

Thank you for your personal reply.

I paused, then typed out:

Here are the side effects I have noticed after several weeks of consistent use of both the cologne and recordings:

My sweat seems to have a similar effect to your BDE cologne. Women find the scent irresistible. My voice has also developed a strange, hypnotic ability. When I focus in a certain way, it makes them seemingly unable to disobey my instructions.

I am, of course, not upset by these results. At the same time, I wanted to reach out in case there were more side effects I should be made aware of. I'm sure that my personal experience and experimentation are much less thorough than your own testing and research.

In response to your postscript, I am living in the City. Depending on your time difference, I would be thrilled to talk to you any time in the evening after 6 o'clock — when I get off work.

Thank you again, and I look forward to your reply,

John

I hit Send, and then wondered a second later whether my email sounded insane. Maybe I was an anomaly, an edge case. What if the BDE products really were just meant for self-confidence and I was the 1 in 10 million freak for whom it did something truly weird and extraordinary?

I blew out a breath and shook my head. Well, nothing I could do about it now. If I was insane, Mr. King would just have to deal with it. I snorted. If the man was anything like his ads and recordings indicated, he would be more interested than not in my strange results.

I closed my Email app and clicked back to my coding environment. I took a deep breath, and started to work.

* * *

It was near the end of the day when Allison dropped by my office.

I didn't notice her until I glanced up and realized she was standing in my doorway, watching me thoughtfully. I had no idea how long she'd been there.

I raised my eyebrows. "What's up, Allison?"

She nodded slowly, thoughtfully, then said, "How's the Morrison project coming?"

I'd had a meeting with my team earlier in the afternoon. To my excitement they'd been making amazing progress, even with the new deadline. In the past two weeks, their productivity had skyrocketed and I'd even noticed improvements in the quality of the work they'd been outputting. I felt a glow of pride.

"Excellent," I said with a slight smile. "I can take back the doubts that I had yesterday. We were ahead of schedule, so even with the revised deadline we'll be able to have something ready for you by the end of the week."

I wasn't sure if Allison was disappointed or merely surprised at the news, but her eyebrows rose fractionally and she pursed her red, Cupid's Bow lips. "That's good," she said after a moment, but didn't leave.

I tried to ignore her and get back into the flow of my work, but she stood watching me for another long moment before I looked up again. "Is there something else I can help you with?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Allison said pensively. She crossed the room on her high heels and I took in today's outfit. She was wearing a tight-fitting white blouse that strained across her ample tits, with a tan pencil skirt that clung to her legs and, I knew, probably looked fantastic on her round ass. A delicate gold chain hung around her throat and dipped distractingly down into the valley of her cleavage.

I glanced away before she could notice where I'd been looking.

My boss circled my desk and gestured at the screen with her chin. "Is this what you've been working on?"

"Yes," I answered, turning back to the screen and scrolling up through today's work.

"What do you have?"

I nodded, half to her and half to myself, focusing, and started to explain. Despite her looks, which might have led people to assume she was just an office ornament, Allison was smart. I still believed she had gotten her promotion because she was better at... well, "office politics" than I was, but she was a more than decent software engineer. Once upon a time, not too long ago, we'd both led teams just like mine. All that to say that she was able to pick up the thread of my explanation easily, asking intelligent questions as she leaned over behind me to see where I pointed out relevant chunks of code.

She was close behind me. I could smell her perfume, something sweet and reminiscent of dessert, and I felt her weight on the back of my leather swivel chair. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

"Hmm..." she muttered softly. She sounded off, somehow, but I didn't think to question it.

Despite my newly-minted confidence, explaining my code had always intimidated me. So I was focused on my explanation rather than the half-murmured sighs she gave as she agreed with my projections and commentary.

After a moment, she pushed herself up, her hand brushing against my back as she stood. "Ahem... well," she muttered, and when I glanced up I saw that her eyebrows were furrowed with concentration and her full mouth was pressed in a hard line. "That's very good." She pressed her skirt down against her thighs and then nodded again. "Very good..." She blinked and then coughed, pushing herself away and walking back around my desk.

I let my gaze slide down her back, from her blonde hair to the rounded hemispheres of her ass as she strutted from the room without looking back. She seemed in a hurry now, like she had somewhere to be. Or like she was trying her hardest to get away from me as quickly as possible.

Does she dislike me that much? I wondered.

It took my puzzled mind several minutes to realize what must have happened. By then, Allison was back in her office at the other end of the floor.

Getting so close to me, Allison had inadvertently caught the scent of my cologne, just like I'd smelled her perfume. It had twisted up into her mind, distracting and confusing her. That was probably why she'd left in such a hurry, because she was feeling strange and didn't know why. The only reason she'd been able to shrug off the effects, I guessed, was that I hadn't given her any instructions or commands.

I leaned back in my chair, tapping one finger thoughtfully against my cheek. I wondered if the cologne had had a similar effect on Allison as it had on Barbara and McKenzie and Adrianna. If it had made her feel all hot and bothered and horny.

The thought of it coiled, hot and hard, in my stomach, and my dick responded. I bit my lip, imagining Allison in the women's bathroom, eyes clenched shut and lips pressed tightly together as she muffled the sounds of her playing with herself, her thoughts devoted to me and my pleasure.

I hadn't thought before about the use of my new influence outside of my home. But now...

My mind's eye summoned up an image of Allison, her blue eyes glazed and blank, her full lips parted in a gasp. Her round tits were on display for me as she knelt between my legs, moaning wantonly while her fingers slid in and out of her drenched pussy.

There are real possibilities here.

I realized I was getting hard, an evident bulge in my slacks that was only hidden by my broad wooden desk. I glanced around guiltily, even though I was in my own office and separated from the other workers.

Time enough to think about that later, I decided. Once my home life had been dealt with.

As I walked out around 5 o'clock, I glanced back and noticed that Allison was watching me through the glass walls of her new office. There was something in her expression as she glanced away, and it sent a cold little shiver down my back. Not fear or worry, but a slight concern. Something wasn't right... I just didn't have the mental bandwidth to puzzle it out.

If only I had, I would have been less surprised when things turned out the way they did.

* * *

McKenzie greeted me at home in loungewear, a pair of loose shorts that left bare miles of tan thigh and an oversized dress shirt belonging to yours truly. It had only been half buttoned, exposing a glimpse of her flat stomach and the upper swell of her perky breasts. Her hair was dark with moisture, which made me think she had showered recently.

"What did you get up to today, Kenz?" I put my keys in the bowl and the briefcase containing my laptop and some pads of legal paper on the floor. I opened my arms and smiled.

My stepdaughter grinned back and strode happily into them.

"Mmm, Daddy..." she murmured into my chest, taking in a long breath. She relaxed in my arms, and I could tell that she had gotten a good lungful of my potent cologne.

"I missed you," she said softly, then glanced up into my face. "That's what I got up to." Her hazel eyes sparkled mischievously and her hands moved softly against my sides. She winked and her hands slid lower.

I groaned softly as she stroked up my thighs, her breath on my neck. "Anything else?" I muttered, smiling.

"I got my workout in," she said, her fingers gently stroking across the growing bulge behind my zipper.

"Uh-huh..."

"And I planned a little surprise for you."

I raised my eyebrows, then gasped softly as she undid my belt and zipper, her fingers sliding down beneath the fabric. "What... oh... what's the surprise?"

She kissed my throat, the scent of her shampoo drifting up into my nose. Her eyes had a sheen I now recognized, a sign that her will was leaving her, her body reacting primally to the scent of her Man. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?" Her tongue came out to wet her lips, and my length hardened against her palm through the fabric of my boxers.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as lust rose in my chest. "Mmm... Yeah," I said, my thoughts jumbling. "That, ahh... makes sense."

"You don't have any other plans tonight, I hope?" she asked, gracefully sliding down to her knees.

My hand fell instinctively onto her head, tangling in her damp hair. Her chestnut locks were soft between my fingers. "No..." My cock sprang free as she slowly tugged down my pants and underwear, her breath warm on the sensitive skin. My balls ached, and I realized that I'd been getting worked up at the office, thinking about what I would do to Allison if I wasn't worried about sexual harassment charges.

"Good," she murmured, her hand curling around my girth and gently sliding the head of my manhood across her cheek.

I groaned, her teasing winding me up.

My stepdaughter's lips brushed over the tip of my length, her tongue flicking and catching a bead of precum. She shivered, lashes fluttering at the taste. She drew back, stroking slowly as her gaze fixated on my cock.

My free hand fell back against the entryway table for support. "God you're so fucking hot..." I muttered. I could feel it rising through my belly, unclenching, the lust that had been building ever since I saw Allison in that tight blouse and pencil skirt. Ever since I'd realized that the power I wielded at home could be transformed into power at work.

"Thank you, Daddy..." McKenzie whispered, her voice gentle and slow. Her mouth gently kissed down my shaft and back up, her hazel gaze cloudy.

Then she leaned forward and took me between her pillowy lips.

I groaned again, her hot, wet mouth perfect around my throbbing cock. Fuck...

The teen slowly lowered her head between my legs and then back up, still teasing me even though inch after inch of my pulsing length was disappearing into her tight throat.

My fingers curled in her hair. I was going to take control, to fuck that pretty little face, to use that mouth like—

The doorbell rang, loud and close, and my head jerked up in surprise.

"What the hell?" I gasped, stepping back and away from my stepdaughter, a line of her saliva swinging free from her pink lips.

At my feet, McKenzie blinked and her eyes suddenly cleared, her face as shocked as mine. She shook her head, glancing between me and the door. "Are you expecting—?"

"No," I said swiftly, wondering if a random delivery by the mailman had interrupted the post-office blowjob I so evidently needed. "You?"

My stepdaughter shook her head again and swiftly stood, her hand rising to wipe moisture from her cheek.

I fumbled with my throbbing manhood, stumbling as I leaned down and tugged at my pants. My belt clinked and I forced myself back into my boxers.

The doorbell rang a second time, then there were several firm knocks at the door.

I took a long, slow breath, trying to calm myself. My aching length pressed hard against my slacks and I clenched and released several fists before glancing back to the door.

McKenzie suppressed a giggle now as her eyes flickered from my face to my crotch and back up. "I'll get the door," she said cheerily, biting her lip as a smile curled across her mouth.

"Don't you—" I started to say, but she was already striding forward and reaching for the nob.

I swore softly and stepped behind the entry table, hoping the frail barrier would hide my obvious arousal as she pulled the door open.

I blinked. It wasn't a mailman. In fact, it wasn't someone I recognized. Standing in the doorway with his hand raised to knock once again was a tall teenager around McKenzie's age, his sandy blonde hair swept sideways in a Bieber-ish manner and his face furrowed in concentrated calm.

"McKenzie?" he asked in surprise, his eyes widening and glancing nervously between her and me. His eyebrows furrowed as he saw me, evidently not knowing who I was.

I could see my stepdaughter's shoulders tighten. Then, an instant before she spoke, I realized who this must be. "Lucas," she said. "What are you doing here?"

McKenzie's ex jerked his head back to look her in the face, and I saw his eyes give her an up and down. He took in her loungewear and the dress shirt that obviously belonged to a man. "Hi..." he said numbly, and I saw his feet shuffle in a sudden, awkward manner. "Can we... um..." his eyes slid back at me. "Can we talk?"