Mind-Control Panties Story 1: Incestuous Awakening

Mind-Control Panties

Story One: Incestuous Awakening

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2019

Note: Thanks to Ricochet for beta reading this!

In a certain mall, in a clothing store frequented by the local college girls, a figure wandered.

Nondescript. The type of person no one would ever look at twice. The figure drifted through the store, browsing the shelves, glancing at the wares. Trendy clothing. Flashy and bright, full of pastel colors. The figure paused at one display with a selection of panties covered in salacious slogans printed across the rear, designed to hug the firm, toned rump of a girl budding into her sexuality. The figure, with a casual gesture, added its own panties to the stack. One with its own special phrase written upon it.

Daddy’s Girl.

The figure continued on. An observer would have hardly noticed that anything had happened. The light-blue panties with the pink lettering didn’t stand out at amid the others.

It wasn’t long before a gaggle of young women, eighteen or nineteen, entered the store. Their bright laughter echoed through the retail space as they attacked the clothing racks like a flock of hungry vultures. Only, no vulture was ever as succulent of these nubile, young things.

One of them, a eighteen-year-old sophomore named Brittany Smith, was looking for the perfect outfit. Her blonde hair fell loose about her round face, her lips plump and covered in a shiny, pink lip gloss. She had a beauty mark on her upper lip, her blue eyes bright as she stumbled with her friends, gossiping, enjoying the vitality of youth.

The laughter increased when they reached the display with the panties. They giggled in embarrassed delight at the naughty phrases. They joked about accidentally flashing their panties and letting this or that cute guy see the enticing phrases printed in garish letters across their rumps.

Brittany’s gaze fell on the light-blue panties with the pink lettering. She touched the cotton/poly blend and felt a strange tingle race through her. She was most certainly not a daddy’s girl. She hated how restrictive her father was. Robert Smith was a man with strong opinions about how his daughter should act. Opinions Brittany most definitely did not share.

However, there was something so titillating about the phrase.

Something naughty.

“Oh, Brittany, you just have to buy those,” said Miranda Brenner. “Those are wild.”

Buzzing with a euphoric high as Brittany imagined wearing these for her new boyfriend, Stephen, she snagged them up and rushed to the cash register.

By the time she finally wore them, nearly two months had passed. But the figure was patient while waiting for the fun to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<strong>Brittany Smith</strong>

A nervous flutter ran through me. I had my first date with George Harvey tonight. I was giddy with excitement. He was such a stud. So much better than Brad, whom I’d dumped last week when I caught him texting that skank Miranda Brenner. George was definitely better than that lame Stephen. Why did I ever think dating him would be fun? He had become way too much like my father, wanting to control me.

“F that,” I muttered to myself as I capped my Passion Fruit Maroon lipstick. My lips were a shiny, vibrant red. It set off the blue of my eyes and made me look deliciously irresistible.

My hips swayed in a new skirt I’d bought earlier at the mall, my small breasts bouncing in the negligee-like top I wore. The thin fabric dangled from spaghetti straps that molded to my torso and gave ample proof I wasn’t wearing a bra. My firm, young nipples pressed hard against the material.

George would be here soon. I was so eager to be picked up. The older boy was exciting. I couldn’t wait to show him just how grown-up I could be. It was finally time for me to lose my virginity.

“That’s right, you’re going to pop my V-card,” I muttered to myself, cheeks going scarlet at saying those words aloud.

The doorbell rang.

I gasped, a jolt of shock running through me. George was early. I was supposed to have another thirty minutes to make sure I was perfect. That my blonde hair was falling in perfect waves around my face, that my makeup was sultry and exciting, and that my outfit fit me perfectly. I was wearing my new thong, the thin strap of material buried between the peachy curves of my bubbly ass.

“Well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I muttered as I heard my mother moving through the house.

I darted downstairs, my feet slapping on the steps, my youthful breasts jiggling in my top. The fabric rubbed against my nubs, sending excited tingles down to my pussy. I was ready for this night. I was eager—

“I can’t believe I locked the blasted keys in the car,” my father growled.

I let out a squeak of fright. Why was my father home early? He didn’t get off work for an hour. I arranged things so he couldn’t see what I was wearing. At least, not before I got back from my date.

His brown eyes flicked up to me, his back straightening as he witnessed my cute outfit, disapproval crossing his stuffy face. Color spotted his cheeks as his nostrils flared. I froze on the steps, clutching the polished banister, my heart thundering beneath my breasts.

Then I lifted my head. Maybe I could get out of this if I bluffed. “Hey, Dad. How was work?”

“You see what our daughter’s wearing?” he said, ignoring my words entirely.

My mother glanced at me, biting her lower lip. “Well, I’ll admit it’s a little much, but she’s growing up.”

“Growing up into what?” he demanded.

Anger shot through me. He thought that I was a whore.

“I’m dressed for my date, Father,” I said with a frosty tone to my voice. “He’s going to be here any minute.”

“Not dressed like that,” Daddy growled. He glanced at my mother. “Talk to your daughter. She is not going out of this house dressed like that.”

I stamped my foot. “Oh, yes I am!”

“Now, honey,” Mom said, her voice soft. “That skirt is a little short. I mean… What is your date going to think?”

“That I’m fine! Cute! Sexy!”

“Sexy?” Daddy growled. “Sexy?”

His withering glare fell upon me. I trembled, swallowing. I wanted to melt away. It was an unflinching gaze. His brown eyes were intense. He may look mild-mannered in his beige slacks and sweater, but he still had that military bearing. He worked in an office now, but…

“This is what all the girls wear,” I said.

“You’re not all girls. You’re my little girl.”

“I am not!” I glared at him. “I’m eighteen. An adult!”

“You’re barley an adult,” he growled. “So long as you live under my roof, so long as I pay your bills, including that damn phone you spend all your time messing around on, then you’re going to dress how I say!”

The bottom fell out of my stomach. That was no empty threat. “I need my phone. I have to stay in contact with my friends.”

He arched an eyebrow at me.

“If I don’t have it, how am I supposed to be connected to the world? How will I know what’s going on?”

“By all means, go out there dressed like that and see how great your life is without that little box.” He stood aside, sweeping his arm. “After all, you’re practically an adult. There is an entire world out there waiting for you. Jobs. Bills.”

“But…” my lower lip quivered.

“What about that pink skirt you have?” Mom chimed in, trembling beside dad. “You always look cute in that.”

“It falls down to my knees!” I hissed.

“Good,” Dad said, nodding.

“Why don’t you just make me wear a habit!” I snarled. “Just me make into a nun or something! Or you can shove me into a burqa!”

“If that’s what you want to wear,” he said. “I can go buy one.”

I stared into his eyes, refusing to look away. Fury boiled through me. He looked so calm. A rock. It shook me up, my anger faltering. I trembled, swallowing. Was he serious? Would he really stuff my cute body into a shapeless burqa? My eyes watered as I forced them to stay open. My feet squirmed.

He was relentless. Unfeeling.

“I hate you!” I snarled as I whirled around. “I hate you so much!”

“That’s fine,” he growled. “When you’re older, you’ll look back at this and laugh.”

I screeched as I stomped to my bedroom. I threw myself through the door and slammed it behind me.

“Want to make me dress like a little girl?” I hissed in annoyance.

Then I remembered the perfect pair of panties. That would show him.

I whirled around and darted for my dresser. I grabbed the polished, white knobs and yanked it open. My panties and bras shifted around inside from the violence of my action. My gaze darted around the dainty garments. Then, I spotted what I was looking for. Light-blue fabric. Some of the pink letters showing. I grinned. I shoved my hands beneath my skirt, hooking the waistband of my new thong, and ripped it down my thighs. My skirt swayed. I could feel it dancing over the cheeks of my plump ass. I stepped out of the dainty panties, my blood boiling.

“Expect me to be his little girl,” I muttered. “Eff that!”

I unfolded the special panties, nodding in satisfaction at the sight of the pink letters. “Daddy’s Girl.” They made me tingle just thinking about wearing them. I would lose my virginity tonight wearing these panties. I would throw myself at George.

“Ooh, you’re going to get pussy tonight! Even if you’re an asshole, I’m so angry, I’ll just mount you in the middle of the theater!”

My blonde hair danced about my face as I shoved my right foot through the leg hole. Then I thrust my left leg through the other. I worked that blue, cotton/poly blended material up my thighs. It whisked against my skin, caressing me. A naughty tingle raced up to my vulva, electrifying my clit. I shuddered as I wiggled it up my thighs. I pulled it over my rump, the crotch settling against my shaved, virgin pussy.

I groaned, my eyes fluttering as this lightning zapped through me.

I stared at myself in the mirror, my skirt half-bunched around my waist, my hair swaying loose about my shoulders. My lips were just glossy maroon. This vivacious, bold color. It was so… adult.

That wouldn’t do at all. I didn’t have much time to change and fix my makeup. I had to move fast. What was up with this skirt I was wearing? Daddy wouldn’t like how short it was. The hemline barely covered anything.

My cheeks blushed a bright scarlet.