The Hitch-Hiker

One wish before, one wish after.

Those are my rules. They're pretty simple. They're entirely self-imposed boundaries; at first, I told myself it was because it was fair, but let's be honest - there's nothing fair about what I do. I can turn a nun into a whore, a whore into a nun. I could make Bill Gates give his fortune to charity (although he's doing okay with that on his own) and I could make your straight husband sleep with your equally-straight pool-boy.

For a while, I told myself it was to give them a fighting chance, but that's not quite it either. Maybe some day, someone will come up with a wish that makes a difference...but it hasn't happened so far, and so I don't think it's likely to.

No...if I'm being honest with myself, which I do try to be...it's because it makes it interesting.

Humans are amazing creatures. They're creative, imaginative beings. And what they do with their one wish never fails to astound me.

Well, no, that's not true - many of them cast the same uninteresting wishes, over and over again, as if their feeble attempts at finding a loophole is going to stop me.

But not the hitch-hiker.

No, hers was...an interesting one.

###

I didn't have a destination in mind when I found her. I had a few..."victims" I suppose you'd call them...brewing, but it would be another week or two before they got truly interesting, and so I had time to kill.

She was standing by the side of the road, her thumb in the air. She wasn't particularly attractive. I wouldn't kick her out of bed, but frankly there's very few people I'd kick out of bed. When you can access the deepest depths of someone's darkness, their external appearance is suddenly not nearly as important.

I pulled to the side of the road, and I didn't even have to tweak her - she jumped into my car straight away. She had dark hair and dark eyes - not just the eyes themselves, but everything surrounding them. It seemed my hitch-hiker didn't get a lot of sleep.

She was conservatively dressed, I suppose. She was wearing a skirt, with thick black tights under them; heaven forbid she show off any skin.

The girl introduced herself as Nicki, and thanked me for stopping. No sooner did we take off than I reached over, touched her forehead, and began exploring her mind as she slumped back in her seat.

College girl...that made sense, considering where I'd picked her up from. She was on her way home. Single dad, mother was well out of the picture, no siblings. She had an old boss who could be fun, but I decided to go with the father - after all, she was heading home to spend time with him. I hardly wanted to split up a father and his daughter.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Within a few seconds, I'd formulated a plan. By the time she left for college again (after all, I didn't want to get in the way of her education) her father would have sampled all her holes...practically worn them out, even.

It was time for her wish, and this...this is where my young hitch-hiker surprised me.

"I don't want him to enjoy it," she said simply, and with that, the wish was wished.

###

Now, I've had some weird wishes before. People normally try to stop the future that I've shown them. So far no one's come close - they've just made the path more interesting. But Nicki's wish...Nicki's wish was interesting.

She wasn't trying to stop it. Or if she was, she was picking a roundabout way of doing it. So many people have gone down the path of "he can't touch me" that I now know the location of almost every latex suit store in the country.

No, it seemed that there was something more...something I was missing. I could have dived into Nicki's mind in an instant and learned exactly what it was, but...well, the wishes were there to make it interesting, and finding out immediately would defeat the point.

The rest of the trip was mostly silent. Nicki was busy processing the instructions I'd implanted, and I was pondering what purpose her wish could possibly have.

When we got to her house, she thanked me for the lift and walked inside. I parked my truck somewhere out of the way and followed her in, making sure that no one would notice me. I try not to alter my experiments (except to make sure they follow the rules) but with Nicki's wish, I knew that her dad would need a bit of work.

It didn't take me long to learn Mark's situation. Long hours, no time to date, and not much interest in it after Nicki's Mom left. He was really looking forward to reconnecting with his daughter, something which I was more than happy to facilitate.

There weren't many changes needed to be made - first of all, I ensured that no matter what Nicki did, he would get absolutely no pleasure from it. That was the wish, and I always ensure the wish comes true.

He'd still partake, of course, but he wouldn't enjoy a moment of it.

Secondly, I bumped up his libido. From the moment he hugged his daughter, Mark would be horny. Insatiably so. The slightest hint of flesh from anyone - blood relatives obviously not excluded - and he'd be hard, unable to get sex off his mind.

Lastly, work. He'd already taken a few days of vacation to get his daughter settled in, but it just took a tiny bit of fiddling to give Mark time off until his daughter left again. If he was at work, there was a chance - a slim one, but still a chance - of him meeting someone, and we couldn't have that.

I wanted to ensure that Mark's sexual desires were exclusively caused by - and met - by his daughter.

No matter how much he hated it.

###

As I walked into the house, I shuddered with the knowledge of what I had to do.

I'd always heard that hitch-hiking was dangerous, but no one had ever told me exactly why. Of course, I can't imagine "you'll meet a man who will psychically force you to have sex with your father" would have been on the list even if they had, but still. I could avoided this whole perverted situation if the anti-hitch-hiking propaganda had been just a tiny bit more effective.

"Daddy!"

He smiled as I approached. I know that I'll always be his little girl...I guess that's what's so fucked about it. Even when he's deep inside me, he won't be able to stop thinking of me as his little girl.

Got to stop thinking about it. It's going to happen - the man made that very clear - but I don't have to think about it. Block it all out.

As soon as I threw my arms around him, I felt something change. It was like in that moment, for the very first time, he noticed I was a woman. His whole body stiffened, and I quickly felt something else stiffening as well.

I seized the opportunity, as I knew I had to do, and tightened the hug. My boobs were pushing against my father's chest, and playing the ingenue, I pushed my crotch up against his hardness.

"Nicki!"

My father sprung back, aghast. If I played this wrong, I knew I risked fucking everything up, and the consequences of that had been very clear.

I couldn't let that happen.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I ignored his question, and threw myself down on the couch.

"What're we up to tonight, Dad?" I said, acting as if everything was normal, knowing all the while that things could never be normal again.

There was a pause as he looked at me, staring at him with a coy smile. Again, I was trying to be subtle yet provocative - one leg was up on the back of the couch, and the other was on the floor. If I hadn't been wearing these tights, he'd be able to see my panties, tightly stretched against my pussy.

I was in a position that suggested I wanted nothing more than for him to leap on top of me and fuck me.

If he was anyone else, that is.

"I thought we could go see a movie."

"Ugh!" I said, rolling my eyes. "I just spent a full day traveling - can't we do something here?"

I sat up, excited. I don't have much in the way of tits, but the enthusiasm with which I moved ensured that what I did have bounced slightly, and I was simultaneously glad and shocked to see my Dad's attention drawn to them as they did.

How the fuck do you seduce your father? Believe it or not, it's not something they teach at law school. I was playing it by ear, hoping that my efforts would be enough.

But I had some ideas, and there was only one way to see if they could work.

"You didn't see last week's Game of Thrones either, did you?"

Dad shook his head, distracted. I wasn't even doing anything provocative now, and he still couldn't keep his eyes off my body. Had...had the man done something to my Dad?

Was he here now?

I resisted the temptation to look around for him - if he was here, he clearly didn't want to be seen, and I doubted a cursory glance would be enough to reveal him to me.

"How about I make us some dinner and we watch some 'Got' together. Sound like a plan?"

My Dad agreed, and I run over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Jesus, Nicki," he scowled in response. "That's not appropriate - you know better than that."

It seemed that my Dad was not comfortable with any displays of physical affection Unfortunately for him, there were going to be a lot more of them while I was home.

###

Dad's always been a huge fantasy freak. You wouldn't guess to look at him - he's like 6'5" and he works in a factory. But ever since he was in high-school, he's devoured every fantasy book he can find. I tried a few as a kid - with the number laying around the house, it was hard to avoid them - but they never really did anything for me.

So he was pretty delighted when I got into the Game of Thrones TV show - it was something we could watch together.

We send emails and texts back and forth after each episode, it's nice. He's been pretty good at not spoiling stuff so far, although I do know what happens to Arya in the end.

I offered to cook dinner because guys love being fed, served. I dunno why - maybe it's a primal thing, maybe it's just that humans like food. Either way, I was going to use it to my advantage.

And so after going upstairs and changing into the most casually slutty outfit I owned, I asked Dad to come into the kitchen and keep me company while I cooked.

"Damn it, Nick," he said as soon as he walked into the room. "What are you dressed like that for? You look like a common tramp."

I may overdone it on the sluttiness and underdone it on the casual. He clearly didn't like what I was wearing, but I knew it had kind of worked - even through his work jeans, I could see his cock slowly thickening.

"It gets hot in here," I pouted. "Besides, it's just you and me. What does it matter what I wear?"

He almost spat with rage in his response - it seemed that the stranger had granted my wish. Dad was going to hate every minute of what we were going to do.

"You will go upstairs and change out of that whorish outfit right now, young lady. I did not raise a slut."

Maybe I should have done what he said. Maybe I should have tried to lull him into a false sense of security, make him think that I was still his innocent little Nicki before I tried anything sexual.

But instead, I maintained eye contact, and slowly moved one hand up my leg. My father's eyes almost bulged out of his head as he saw me openly defying him, and as my hand moved under my skirt, he began trembling with rage.

"Nicki..." he growled warningly, and in response I just moved my other hand up to my top and roughly grabbed my left tit.

That did it. I'm not sure exactly what "it" was, but a vein appeared on my father's forehead, and he pointed upstairs.

"Out!" he barked, and even with the consequences of my task hanging over me, I knew better than to disobey him. I reluctantly pulled my hand out of my panties, released my tit, and began walking to my room.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I looked back. To my surprise, Dad was looking after me, his boner visible through his jeans, his eyes fixated on my barely-covered ass. I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn't help myself - after pausing for long enough to know I had his attention, I moved my wet finger into my mouth, and slowly licked it.

Before my father could do or say anything in response, I was gone.

###

I didn't sleep much that night. What I was going to do with my father...what we were going to do...

It wasn't something that was going to leave the top of my mind any time soon.

When I woke up the next morning, it didn't take me long to decide what to wear.

Nothing.

Well, not quite. I slipped into the hall naked - I knew my father wouldn't be up. He has to get up early for work, so when he's off, he takes every opportunity to sleep in. It only took me a few seconds of poking around in the laundry hamper to find it - one of my father's white T-shirts.

When Dad woke up, he found me wearing his shirt and nothing else.

"Nicki," he said, his voiced slurred with sleep and annoyance. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Hi Daddy!" I said, deliberately contrasting my bubbliness with his dour tone. His eyes lowered to my chest, where my nipples were threatening to poke through his shirt (this was no accident - as soon as I'd heard his bedroom door opened, I'd pinched them until they were well and truly visible).

Before he could say anything, I ran over to give him a hug - even through his sweatpants, it was impossible not to feel his boner.

"Nicki!" he spluttered, as I pushed myself against it. Like I said, seducing one's father isn't exactly something they teach in school. I figure that being half-naked and pressing myself against him was a good start...especially if, as I suspected, my mysterious tormentor had made some adjustments.

I mean, the alternative was that my Dad had always had a bone for me, and I'd just never noticed until tasked to take advantage of it.

"Daddy..." I purred, and reeled as he almost threw me across the room.

"Nicki!"

A part of me was hurt, but I knew I couldn't drop character. I had to seduce my father, no matter what.

I just listened, pouting slightly as I shot my father what I hoped was a sexy look.

"Jesus Christ, Nicki. You know better than this...what on earth is wrong with you?"

Crap. I might have been overplaying it. Coming on too strong made it too easy for Dad to reject me - maybe the trick was to be more subtle, seduce him without being obvious about it.

Have him inside me before he even realized what was up.

"Sorry Dad," I said, softening my pout...but not dropping it entirely. "I'm just excited to see you."

"I'm excited to see you too," he said stiltedly, after a brief pause. "But...how about you go put some clothes on, okay?"

###

That day, I didn't try anything more. I dressed in something that resembled a normal outfit, something I would have worn even without the challenge in front of me.

Of course, it wasn't exactly the same. Instead of the thick black tights I normally wore, I decided to go without, giving Dad plenty of chances to check out my bare legs.

And before hitching that ride with the stranger, I definitely would have worn underwear.

It wasn't so bad that I could be ordered to change, but it was definitely in the top five provocative outfits I'd ever worn around the house.

I could sense Dad's eyes on me for most of the day. I considered flashing him my pussy, but decided against it - after he'd pushed me away that morning, I figured it wasn't worth it - this way, he'd think that he was the one at fault, the one uncontrollably lusting after his daughter.

He'd have no idea that I had to seduce him, no matter how much he hated it.

I tried not to think too much about my wish. A part of me felt bad, I guess - here Dad was, unknowingly controlled, being desperately seduced by his own flesh-and-blood...and my wish guaranteed that he wouldn't even get any pleasure out of it.

But ultimately, I knew I'd done the right thing. What we were going to do - it was incest. It was sick and wrong, and the idea of my father getting off on it was almost enough to make me throw up.

I mean, he was going to get off on it, but this way...at least this way, I'd know that it wasn't something he wanted. Like, I love my Dad. He's a good man, and I don't want him to turn into a monster.

A man who will willingly seduce his own daughter - that's a monster. The wish was made to protect him from that fate.

I just wish I had something to protect myself.

###

I dreamt about my father that night. Honest to god, I wish I knew whether it was implanted by the strange man in the car or if it was a real dream, but either way the outcome was the same - I dreamed that he was standing over me as I slept, his dick in his hand, and when I woke up I smiled seductively and gestured for him to come towards me. As he did, I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him until he came.

When I woke up, I couldn't believe how wet I was. It was all a dream, of course - my father was in his room down the hall, still sleeping.

The image popped into my head, and I suddenly realized what I had to do. I had a little under a week to seduce my father, and he's always so groggy when he wakes up...and if he's anything like my ex-boyfriend, he definitely wakes up with a hard-on.

For the second morning in a row, I slipped into the hallway naked. This time I didn't stop by the laundry hamper, however - this time, I went straight into my father's room.

As I'd predicted, he was fast asleep...and the bulge in his pants told me that wasn't the only thing I'd been right about.

Standing at the doorway of Dad's room, I hesitated. Was this going to work? Once I crossed this line, there was no going back...and the consequences of my failure had been made pretty explicit.

Was this something I really wanted to do?

Of course not. But I had to take a chance at some point, and this was my best shot.

Without making a sound, I tip-toed across the room and lay down next to my father. Had he woken up at that point, the first thing he would have seen was his own teenage daughter's breasts, staring him straight in the eye.

I tried to tell myself that the cold was the only reason my nipples were hard.

Holding my breath, I moved one hand beneath the covers. As it slowly found its way between my father's legs, I realized that the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. I couldn't remember the last time I was this nervous - when my father woke up, I had no idea what he'd do. He might kick me out, he might call the police...

...or my plan might work, and he might start seeing me as a wet hole to fuck.

He shifted slightly as my hand made its way underneath the sweatpants he slept in, and firmly wrapped itself around his cock.

A part of me felt truly sick - my father's dick was throbbing in my hand. I could feel how hard it was...but the rest of me was wondering if he was dreaming of me, just as I'd been dreaming of him.

With a long, quiet sigh, I started sliding my hand up and down his shaft. This was it; the moment of truth.

For the next several minutes, my father didn't wake up. He didn't open his eyes, at least - I assumed he was still asleep, but I guess he could just as easily have been laying there with his eyes shut, pretending to still be in a dream, refusing to see who had his cock enveloped in his hand, who was breathing raggedly in the bed beside him.

It's just nerves, I told myself angrily. That's the only reason I'm having trouble breathing.

My nipples were just as hard as they had been the previous morning, but my hands hadn't even travelled near them. The wetness between my legs was harder to explain - I tried to tell myself that it was just a basic biological response, that any healthy female would automatically begin lubricating with a cock in her hand. That's why pussies get wet, after all.