Elise Ch. 02

Literotic asexstories – Elise Ch. 02 by BillyTripp,BillyTripp
Sandy

Rachel was relaxing at my dinner table with her customary after-dinner hot tea. I was sitting across from her, with some of the iced variety.

“So, how’s your sex life, Dad?”

I was used to direct questions from my precocious daughter, so I didn’t skip a beat. I replied without blinking:

“Oh, about what you’d expect.”

“Taking things in hand with lots of virtual stimulation, I take it?”

“I’ll leave that to your imagination. But I think you can figure that out for yourself.”

Not that we’d ever discussed it, but Rachel knew how much I loved sex with her mother, and also how much I did not enjoy having to do without. I had no doubt she had a fairly good idea of the frequency of my solo activity during the last couple of years.

“You know Dad, it doesn’t have to always be like that.”

I figured I was in store for a little lecture about how I should get out there and date. We had touched on the topic a couple of times, and she knew I didn’t like that idea. And I knew she understood why. It was for the same reason she was so particular about her own attachments. Since I had the absolute best for as long as I did, how could I expect to be satisfied with anything that couldn’t possibly meet such high standards?

“We’ve been over that, sweetie. And I know you understand how I feel about dating at this point.”

“I know Dad, and I wasn’t referring to that. I’ve been thinking about your situation, and I think I might have a solution. But it’s going to be a little bit out there, so I want to make sure you’ll give the idea a fair hearing before I put it out there to you.”

Now at this point, if my relationship with my daughter wasn’t what it is and has always been, my dirty mind might have supposed that Rachel was about to suggest some “solution” that somehow involved her directly. But I knew better. We had long since discussed incest and sex within families, and she well knew that any such proposition was off the table as far as we were concerned. I was not the kind of person to ever cross that line, not after having the kind of father-daughter relationship we’d had her entire life. I just didn’t, and could never, think of my precious daughter in that way.

But I was always open to any other kind of proposition, so I replied, “Well, this ought to be interesting. OK, dear daughter, I promise not to laugh whatever you’re about to come up with out of the room, before you’ve had a chance to make your case.”

In the bantering style to which we’d long been accustomed, she shot back, “Well, Daddy dearest, that’s very good of you, and I appreciate getting a fair hearing.”

Then, her face turned serious, and she continued: “Before I lay out my idea, I want to ask you something.”

“Sure, anything, baby.”

“Do you love women?”

“You know I do.”

“ALL women?”

“Yes, of course. You know what I think of all women.” We’d been over this a time or two over the years. Both Beth and Rachel knew of my feelings about women in general. To put it simply, I’d always thought women were remarkable. Their ability to hold and express deep feelings, to sacrifice, to nurture, to bring forth and sustain new life — these qualities were nothing short of miraculous to me. And of course, their bodies. No matter what age, race, size, or shape, every feature of each woman’s body was truly fascinating to me — how each could display the same physical parts and features, but yet be so unique in her own right. Be they clothed or otherwise, I had never tired of looking at them all, no matter how many thousands I’d gazed upon, whether in person, in photos, or in artistic portrayals.

Rachel pressed on. “Even barely-legal women?”

My eyebrows raised, drawing a small smirk from my mischievous daughter. More than anyone, she appreciated being able to surprise me, even a little bit.

“Yes, ALL women. Even 18-year-olds.”

“Would you be open to playing, shall we say, adult games with an 18-year-old?”

“If it was only playing, and if it was discreet and consensual, and the right 18-year-old, and I didn’t think I was taking unfair advantage in any way, sure, why not? And certainly with no one younger than that.”

“That goes without saying. I know you well enough to be sure, without asking, that you wouldn’t cross that line. In fact, if I had even the slightest suspicion you would, I’d probably be reporting you to the police myself, rather than having this conversation with you.”

I snickered. “And I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’m glad you know and trust me that well.”

“Of course, Dad. I’d be more than a little dim if, after all these years, I didn’t know exactly who and what you were.” Resuming that serious expression, she continued, “Would you be open to playing the role of a Dom for a girl that age? If you could find someone willing to be your sub?”

“Sure, but you know as well as I do that, by and large, 18-year-olds are not yet sexually aware enough to be able to know or embrace such a role with that much clarity.”

“Oh, my Daddy, you might be surprised.”

I knew her use of “Daddy” instead of “Dad” here was intentional, and meant to titillate. This woman, my flesh and blood, had learned well; she didn’t miss a trick. Even her use of the word commonly used to describe a male Dom brought a momentary thrill to my gut, as I briefly recalled the joy and fulfillment of playing such a role with her mother all those years, and of being called that nickname all that time by an appreciative and loving sub who just happened to be my soulmate and the woman of my dreams.

“And how would you know that –” I stopped myself, as I suddenly realized how she would know.

“Aha, Dad, you remembered where I work and in what capacity.”

Where she was going with this became clear in a flash. “You can’t mean a high school student from your school system.”

She saw the slightly disgusted, distressed look on my face, and quickly responded, “Yes, I do. And before you get it in your mind that such a thing is too creepy to even contemplate, please allow me to fully explain.”

I looked back at Rachel for a second or two. I knew that if I let her explain, whatever case she made for what she was suggesting would no doubt be intensely interesting, and, knowing her, would also reflect the application of at least some semblance of professional principles, as well as be the product of her typically thorough, intensive thought process. I owed her the chance to explain, and I had nothing to lose by listening. “Alright, my sweet, loving, smart, but devious daughter, please do. The floor is yours.”

“Well, as I believe you’ve already figured out, as Director of Counseling for the school system, I have unfettered access to complete school records for every student in the system.” I nodded yes.

“As you’re also aware — and I know you are because you’ve always had interest in my life and professional progress — an interest for which I’ve always been grateful, by the way — in my first few years here in Blanksville I was a roving counselor, going around to all the high schools and middle schools to assist with particularly troublesome issues students were having in either their school or personal lives.” Again I nodded yes.

“In the course of that work, obviously I identified and came to recognize all distinct kinds of personality types among students, everything from super-curious to utterly apathetic, overly aggressive to painfully shy and passive, and so on. Variations along several distinct personality continuums. It got so that, after two or three years of dealing with students, particularly those near one end or another of one or more of those continuums, or what we refer to as abnormal on a particular dimension, I became pretty good at predicting, using only what I knew from records and interviews, certain other of a student’s personality traits that neither I nor anyone else had actually observed or recorded anywhere.”

“OK, I follow that. How does that help me understand what I think you’re proposing?”

“I’m getting to that. Now, I won’t bore you with numerous examples of what I’m talking about. I just want to tell you about one personality type that we’ll call ‘submissive’, for lack of a better term.”

Now I started to get an inkling of where this was going. She continued:

“These students are typically passive in nature. They don’t challenge authority very much. They often walk, and even converse, with head down, as if they were consciously trying not to attract attention in any way. They tend to go through their days quietly, trying to stay under the radar, so to speak. You never hear a lot out of them.”

“Don’t they generally tend to be some of the slower kids?” I asked.

“No, not at all, not in general. In fact, many of them are among the brightest in their classes. They do their work well and efficiently, achieve above average overall, but in most cases are reluctant to be recognized for it, not wanting to call attention to themselves. They tend to be very perceptive, able to expertly assess situations as they occur, paying careful attention to things that others ignore, often for their own protection if for no other reason. They are good team players, but never take a leading role in team or group activities. They are excellent at following instructions, more focused and disciplined than the average student, and prove themselves to provide valuable support for any common cause or objective toward which they might participate.”

I cut in and asked, “You do know why I asked about cognitive capabilities?”

“Yes, I think so. You are concerned about taking advantage of someone who, though she’s attained majority, is limited, mentally or emotionally, in some way that might impair her ability to make informed adult decisions.”

“Exactly. I’ll have no part of any arrangement where I sense there is inequality of status, or where I have an unfair advantage of any kind.”

“I know. I’ve never, ever known you to. And I watched you live the highest exemplification of that ideal in your relationship with Mom for all those years. And that’s why you are, and have always been, my role model, Dad.” Rachel smiled, sweetly and genuinely, back at me.

“Aw shucks, sweetie, I’m blushing. Anything else about these so-called “submissive” students I should know?”

“Only something I noticed after careful review of a number of their cases. These particular students tend to have, and to come from, a relatively unstable family life. I’m not necessarily talking about broken homes, violence, serious pathologies in the home situation, any of that. But a lot of times you’ll find neglect or indifference toward them by their parents, and sometimes by their siblings as well. And with others you’ll find overly demanding parents, to the point that the poor child feels dominated by their parents’ wishes and demands. I found that they crave interaction with adults where they feel that at least they have a voice, some control over what happens to them, over decisions that are made affecting them. I’ve seen these students absolutely blossom under the right guidance by teachers, counselors, and other authority figures outside the home.”

“Gee, Rachel dear, I think I know where this is going. But you’ve obviously thought it all out, whatever scheme you’ve cooked up in that brilliant head of yours. So why don’t you spell out why you’ve told me all this, and what it all has to do with me?”

“OK, I was getting to that anyway. But first I need to disclose something to you, of which I don’t think you’re aware. It concerns Mom.”

“Please do. You know you always have my full attention when it comes to her.”

“Well, you see Dad, once Mom thought I was old enough, I guess when I was 15 or so, and unbeknownst to you, she and I started having some pretty involved discussions about, shall we say, the psychological and sociological aspects of your sexual relationship from her point of view.”

“You mean from her point of view as a submissive?”

“Exactly. She went into some detail how her upbringing made her a submissive. Said that when she first met and started dating you in college, she had so little self-confidence, she was virtually a wreck. She had learned to put up a front when around others, in order to be able to even adequately function in school, family, and social situations. She didn’t think you knew at first how bad she was, because even at that tender age, she was good at hiding her insecurities from others.”

“Yes,” I said, “I sensed she lacked self-confidence, and I could tell from my observations of her family dynamics what had likely caused it, but I would have never characterized her as a ‘wreck.’ Later, when under my care she allowed herself to trust and be totally vulnerable, I started to get a feel how bad it really had been for her at one time.”

“Yes, she confirmed that. Said she could never thank you enough for helping her ‘find herself’, as she put it.”

“Believe me sweetie, she thanked me our entire marriage, in a thousand different ways. Inside and outside the bedchamber.”

“She believed that, through your Dom-sub relationship, combined with the complete equality she always felt with you, she came to realize who she was, and that she was a person of real worth, with real contributions to make to you and to our family. She seriously doubted that she would have ever thought much of herself if she hadn’t fully experienced what you two had.”

“Well, although I had more self-confidence than she did going in, I could say much the same about her helping me figure out who I was, helping me develop and refine a keen, perceptive eye and a compassionate nature, while at the same time building assertiveness that served me well my entire adult life and career.”

“So Dad, I think we agree that the kind of sexual kink you two had, if you want to call it that, was beneficial for both of you.”

“No doubt in my mind, sweetie. We wouldn’t have continued it for our entire time together if either of us had felt any differently.”

Rachel shuffled in her chair, as if she was positioning herself for the main event. Brushing her long black hair out of her face, she squarely faced me and began:

“So there are students in my school system who I believe could benefit from the same type of sexual relationship that you and Mom had. Based on my experience with these types of students in the past, I believe I can identify those who would not only be a good temperamental match for such an arrangement, but who also, over time, would be highly likely to derive the same types of benefits Mom did as your sub all those years. I’m talking about a healthy Dom-sub relationship as a substitute for other alternative adult interactions that these particular students lack.”

“Rachel, that’s all well and good, but assuming I agree to be a party to such an arrangement, how would I ever know who could most benefit from that type of relationship with me?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Dad? I’d provide you with the names and basic information on one or more ‘candidates’, based on my evaluation of system records to which I have ready access.”

“Sweet daughter of mine, do you realize the chances you’d be taking with your job and career by doing what you’re suggesting? I don’t know if in all good conscience, I could let you take such risks.”

“The risks are mine to take, Dad. And chances of detection are near zero. For one thing, I would never be so foolish as to ever use school system resources in any way. I would write down relevant information on an individual, bring it home with me, and communicate that information to you by private channels. And once I did that, my involvement as to that individual would be at an end. It would be up to you to meet that particular student and work whatever magic of which you’re capable on her, in order to ingratiate yourself to her and make her freely want to engage in a relationship with you as your sub.

“And,” she added, “in the extremely unlikely case that my involvement came to light in any way, I’m not afraid to change jobs, locations, whatever. I am single, no attachments at all, free to go anywhere I wish, and given the demand for experienced counselors, I have no doubt I could land on my feet in another state. But as I’m saying, it’s just not going to happen. I love it here in Blanksville, and would never do anything that could possibly, at least as far as I could predict, endanger my standing as a trusted authority figure in this community. The way I’d be going about this, the only possible source of information about my activities would be you. And as you should know by now, Dad, I know I can implicitly trust you never to put either of us at any risk.”

“This is a lot to digest, Rachel. I’m going to need some time to consider this proposal.”

“And you’ll have it. It’s about a month before the beginning of the school year. If you’d like to participate in this little scheme, I’d be ready with some information for you at any time once the school year starts.”

“So just suppose I say yes, and you give me information on a ‘candidate’, as you so elegantly put it. How am I supposed to meet the young lady to set my plans in motion?”

“Well, that depends, Dad. How much do you like volleyball?”