Changing Room Pt. 02

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Holly was no longer taking second place. Thanks to large dose of subliminal suggestion Rachel, my wife, now knew in her heart that it was daddy’s job to educate his daughter how to please her man. She knew I had a fatherly right and that it was Holly’s duty to thank me for teaching her, and so she knew that Holly and I sometimes needed to be left alone. I learned somewhere that it was possible to use words to confuse the brain and I’d hypnotised Rachel without her knowing I’d done it. With Holly it was just an extension of what I’d done earlier, carrying on the relaxing tickles and eventually realising she wasn’t asleep but was in a light, suggestible trance. That, I found, could be deepened, making Holly very open to my requests.

I was now working on a different part of the company website but I still had to fix the odd glitch in my virtual changing room (VCR) project. Of course this could happen with any project, large or small. All had gone well for several weeks but when you’re dealing with many different computers, operating systems and browsers there’s always something to go wrong. It was usually the customer service team who took the calls from frustrated customers and passed the problem on to me. I rang one customer at home.

“Hi, this is Terry,” I said. “I’m phoning about your problem with our website.”

“Oh hello,” replied the grumpy customer. “I’ve been looking at your new changing room feature at my friend’s house and it’s frustrating I can’t view it on my home computer.”

“Do you have it switched on now?” I asked.

“Yes. I’ve been on the help page but I can’t get it to work.”

‘Probably blonde and she sounds young,’ I thought, ‘And probably can’t boil an egg without burning it.’ I was having a bad day.

“OK, go on the main page and click on …”

I went through all the steps one by one, then I realised the simple error; Steve’s ‘over 18 with a credit card’ rule.

“Have you bought from us before?”

“Yes, but before you put this new feature on.”

“I think I know what the problem is. Can I ask what kind of item you want to view in the changing room?”

The young lady, Elise, giggled. “It’s one of those new lingerie sets you now stock.” She seemed quite nervous telling me. “I’ve seen them at my friend’s house but I wanted to see myself on my own computer, and I’d love to have a look at some more.”

“It’s OK. I only do the computer side of things so I’m not going to embarrass you by asking you the item number. You need to go to your account and type your credit card number. It’s an age check. We don’t want curious boys getting their kicks from viewing our sexiest lingerie.” I could recall some of the photographed models’ nipples were visible through scant material, as were their trimmed pubes.

“Oh, yes, I see.” She laughed, “It’s a very sensible idea.”

“Usually we don’t store your card details, but we can store them, safely encrypted, if you tick the box. It saves you having to enter them in each time. It’s up to you.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“Would you like me to stay on the phone while you do that?”

“Yes please. Thank you.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Then finally she told me the changing room had appeared. We had made a little animation so it seemed more like being in a real store.

“Hey, that’s great. I know what to do now. Thank you so much.”

“It’s a pleasure. Would you like me to email you, just to remind you what to do? I’ll need your account number – we’ll have your email address on record. We give a 10% discount for your first order through our changing room feature,” I paused for a few moments. “But I’ll email you a code for 20% discount for the problems you’ve had.”

“Oh that’s brilliant. You’re so kind.”

No sooner had she given me her account number than I brought her account up on screen. I fished around in my pocket, plugged in the USB stick and tilted my screen so that no-one passing my office could see. The email could wait until after I’d watched Elise in our virtual room.

She was a brunette, not blonde and she looked even younger than she sounded. Although she had a credit card, proving her age, she had the kind of face that meant she’d need ID to get into nightclubs. I waited for Elise to drag items into the changing room, resizing them to fit her; I presumed her friend had shown her how to work the room.

She thought for a moment, then pulled her sweat top over her head. Then, of course, the photo covered her own bra which meant I could see very little. After making a few adjustments Elise decided to take her own rather small bra off. Shaking her head, she must have decided the item she’d tried wasn’t suitable. Of course, once the photo was moved … mmm, nice.

Elise had very small tits and, as I looked more carefully, was definitely one of our petite customers. No worry; all I could see while Elise was sitting down was delightful … OH SHIT!

One of my junior staff was having problems with some work he was doing canlı bahis and had come to my office for advice; nothing new there except I was viewing, via a hack, a teenage customer who was topless. I flicked the screen off very quickly. Once I’d sorted the problem out I guessed Elise would be dressed and logged out.

I was wrong. Elise was stood modelling a breathtakingly sexy negligee. Apart from three pieces of strategically placed red lace the whole garment was see-thru. When she took it off, I gasped. On my monitor I could see all that Elise possessed; perfect small breasts, smooth unblemished skin, slim but curvy waist, cute belly button and shaved pussy.

All at once I felt guilty as hell. What would I think if it was another IT guy peeping on my daughter? I closed the browser window and I went back to my new project. I couldn’t help but think about what I’d seen. I felt guilty, but then I felt excited, elated … and hard; rock fucking hard. I set about trying to compile a list of account identities. Frustratingly I couldn’t access the sales and invoicing system without leaving tracks, nor could I access the main customer database which would have account numbers, names and addresses, ages etc., without a valid reason to be there.

All I had was … wait a moment … somewhere … test accounts. We’d contacted good, reliable customers who had ordered lingerie and offered them discounts to sample our new lines using the virtual changing room. I had a list somewhere. Frantically I searched and BINGO! I found it in my desk drawer. I scanned a copy and printed it. At home there would be more time to explore my Peeping Tom urges and much less chance of me being caught. I became hard again and stayed that way for ages. I had, in my pocket, a list of 100+ ladies aged 18 to 25 who might be viewing seriously sexy undies.

The day seemed to drag. Finally I arrived home and Holly, hearing the car, was waiting for me.

“Hi Daddy,” the same old greeting as ever, “I’ve been waiting for your hug,” not the same greeting. Things had changed and Rachel was now happy to see that I loved my daughter, indeed I was encouraged to love my daughter more. Holly kissed me in a way that Rachel hadn’t done for years, breasts pressing into my chest, crotch pressing hard against my growing member. Her head tilted, giving me easy access to her wonderful mouth, jaws were relaxed so that our mouths became one. Her tongue hungrily sought mine, our lips relayed wonderful feelings.

I sensed a touch of jealousy as Rachel waited her turn for a hurried kiss before going to serve up our meals. That’s how things would be until I’d got over the way Rachel had changed when she’d started mixing with interfering busybodies who thought men only wanted one thing.

Right now I’d decided the ongoing love for me that Holly had shown meant it would be she, not my wife, who got my full attention. I would fuck Rachel and she would enjoy fucking me, the level of her arousal controlled by a few chosen words. The frequency of our coupling would be controlled by me depending on how well she pleased me: if she was a good wife it would be frequently, if she tried to get involved again with busybodies trying to control me then she would suffer and if I was horny she’d do whatever I wanted her to do.

“Daddy,” said Holly. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Does it involve me lending you money?”

“No. Actually it’s a favour for Diana.”


“Can she come round here and use your discount card?”

25% off for staff meant the company made just 5% on average. It wasn’t meant to be misused. I’d told Holly that it didn’t include friends. Rachel was washing dishes like all good wives should. Holly came across, sat on my lap, squirmed a little.

“OK,” I said. Holly had her own patented way of getting me to change my mind. “It will cost you 3 buttons and no knickers,” I added.

“For how long?”

“Until you go to bed. And the knickers stay in my pocket until laundry’s done.”

“Daddy that’s gross.”

“Nope. It’s a quarter off every £10 Diana spends, that’s 25 quid off a hundred and I have the embarrassment of collecting her lingerie from staff sales.”

Holly didn’t answer.

“Of course if Diana wanted to donate her panties and undo 3 buttons that would be equally acceptable.”

“Dad, you fucking perv. I’m not going to ask her that.”

So far it had always been Holly’s fingers in her sex, not mine. I needed Holly to ask me to finger her, lick her cunt out and, eventually, fuck her. It HAD to be her choice. One, two, three buttons undone just made her smaller than average breasts more interesting. The panties came next, still warm.

To be honest, I’d have preferred Diana’s. Though her parents were wealthy and she could come across sometimes as a rich bitch, Diana was very pleasing to the eye – tall, slim, a neat fully rounded butt and tits to have wet dreams about.

“Tell Diana to come round tomorrow morning. I’ll have to log her in on my staff bahis siteleri account.” I knew Rachel would be out. Saturday mornings she had her hair done in town and then did some shopping. I’d have time to plan and activate the subliminal suggestions and, hopefully, be free to watch the spy cam.

Holly could have spoken to Diana on the phone but they might have wanted to exchange gossip over a few vodkas, so instead she took the short bus ride there. Diana’s father would run her back in his E-type. Depending on how many vodkas, Holly’s clothes usually looked well ruffled, 3+ buttons undone, zip half pulled down. I often got jealous.

With Rachel wanting to watch a film recently released on cable, I could go to my office in peace.

The first few accounts on my copied list drew a blank. With my first success, the webcam opened showing what appeared to be a mother and daughter. The daughter looked to be around 14 or 15 and undressing, so I swiftly closed the link and I passed on to the next on my list. Three or four more further down and I was finally getting somewhere. I keyed in the account number, bypassed the password and the virtual room opened. The girl looked late teens, maybe 20 years old; the room had opened for her so she must have had a credit card.

She was stood, leaning towards the screen. The bra was fixed on the screen where it had been placed, so her sizeable breasts were dangling down beneath the photo. It really was an odd view until photos and body were aligned. We had tried to make the virtual experience as realistic as possible but there were many limitations as to what we could do. Still, sales figures were proving the opposite. People were taking to the idea even though it was far from perfect.

The young woman had now moved. Stood up, away from the screen, I could now see her wearing a lacy black bra and panties set. Satisfied with her choice, the woman cleared the items from the screen but instead of closing the changing room, in effect ending the webcam session, she left it active. I soon found out why. Her phone rang and she was moving in and out of webcam view totally naked.

Did you ever see a video of a teenage lad climbing a tree to peek on his neighbour? OK, I’ll be blunt; did you ever climb a tree or hide in a bush to view your neighbour? My view was the same … the neighbour moving in and out of my vision as she walked around the bedroom.

The following day I was summoned to Steve’s office. I was certain that one of the other IT staff had sussed out my sneaky way of viewing customers webcams. As I entered though I could see the plate of chocolate chip cookies already on his desk. The coffee followed soon after.

“How’s things going?” he asked.

“Most of the bugs are out and I understand sales are up.”

“The new naughty knickers range is going mental. Thank you very much for your suggestion, Terry.”

“Actually it was Debbie’s,” I admitted, “And your buyers team who have managed to source the items. My own opinion is that you might further expand this section.”

“We’ll look into that, but that’s not the reason I called you in,” said Steve, pushing the plate of cookies towards me.

“A problem?” I asked.

“A refinement,” said Steve. “The Board wondered if it would be possible to filter a customer’s choices; for example a simple questionnaire the first time they use the VCR system … for example: age? height? weight? bra size? In that way we can cut down on the need to resize the photo, offer them items more suited to them and cut out most of the ‘wrong size’ returns. You get the idea?”

“As long as you’re paying my wages I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s great. I know you won’t let me down.”

‘And possibly,’ I thought, ‘Some more volunteers for testing.’ I could think of at least 3 young ladies who worked for the company who I’d like to peep on, including a new girl who’d only just had her 18th. Small tits, slender body, 4ft 6 tall. A big surprise in a small packet, I’d been told.

By the time I’d returned to my office a box of home made biscuits was already on my desk.

Come Saturday, Diana arrived soon after Rachel had left, the top three buttons of her canary yellow shirt already opened, proudly displaying two magnificent examples of biological baby feeding machines. She kissed me on the cheek and slipped a small folded piece of silky fabric into my pocket.

“I really do appreciate your kindness,” she said. “I wore this all through the night for you,” she admitted, “And so far this morning.”

For once I was almost speechless.”Thank you.” If she’d half a clue of what was to come she may not have been so generous.

“Daddy has given me £100 to treat myself and I have £50 of my own. Is that OK?”

Ah! So the buttons and g-string were a bribe! With the discount I reckoned she had £200 to spend. Was daddy going to check out the lingerie? Would she wear it just for him? He’d certainly been hands-on with Holly … and how many more of Diana’s friends? bahis şirketleri Jealousy was creeping in again.

“No problem,” I answered.

I didn’t need to set up Holly’s laptop, it was already hacked and I could switch from the company website … viewing images of Diana ‘wearing’ whichever clothes she’d picked, to surveillance mode … a neat application to view and record anything, or anybody in front of the webcam. For the first few minutes Diana simply sat looking at clothes, then she started to ask Holly what she thought.

“I like that top,” said Holly. Oh yes, I had sound too.

“It’s OK, but I prefer that one,” replied Diana, “It will go with that skirt I bought.” And so it went on.

“You can’t pick that one!” said Holly, in alarm. “It’s indecent. Mum would have a fit if she saw it.”

“Of course I can,” Diana exclaimed. “Daddy told me to buy something nice.”

“You wouldn’t wear it if your daddy’s around, would you?”

“Why do you think he gave me the money?” Diana smiled. “Of course I would, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think so,” said Holly. “Anyway it wouldn’t keep me warm. I’d have to wear a dressing gown over it.”

“I’m going to try it on,” said Diana. “You set up the changing room stuff.”

It was hard to tell as the photo, obviously, wasn’t see through. Maybe I could amend that. I’d have a word with the photographers, see if they could photo-magic the image to make it transparent.

“Wow, it looks really good on you,” admitted my princess. “But you wouldn’t let your daddy see, surely?”

“Daddy’s fantastic. He buys me loads of stuff.” Diana felt she’d already answered the question. “Why don’t you try it?”

There was a pause, then some movement as the girls changed places. Holly must have been undressing. During the changeover I got to see both girls just in panties.

“Just watch me later. I’ll show you how to get anything you want,” confided Diana.

I must admit the sheer nightie looked stylish and classy. Perhaps I’d order one, slightly smaller, for Holly to model for me.

By the time the girls had tried on several combinations of mostly sexy underwear I was busting to visit the bathroom for a wank. I decided to shut down my laptop and go downstairs. There were two more items I was going to order in Holly’s size.

Around 15 minutes later they came downstairs, fully dressed again.

“Thank you so much Terry,” said Diana. “Here’s a list of what I want. Perhaps I could thank you properly?”

With that she came across, planted a full kiss on my lips, urging my lips apart.

“I was wondering if you could solve an argument,” she asked, pulling away for breath, “As you work for the company. Do you you think my bra goes well with my blouse?”

Thoughts raged quickly through my mind. How powerful were my subliminal messages from the screen and the background music? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Had they worked on Diana too? The only thing I could do was to go along with Diana’s request.

“Well I don’t think I can see properly,” I kinda stuttered.

Diana slapped her head, “Doh! Of course you can’t.” She unfastened all the buttons, revealing a unusual yellow lacy bra, cleavage almost as deep as the Grand Canyon. Man, what a pair of tits! Her cleavage went all the way down to … Hell? Would Hell be the place I’d arrive after I died from stunned shock?

“I’m not sure,” I played for time. “I think so. The lace is slightly lighter, but the cups go well.”

“That’s what daddy said.” Diana pulled at the lace, rather than placing the blouse fabric next to it. A nipple peeked out. “But if you look carefully,” she moved even closer, “The lace, stitching and cup all blend well.”

I dared myself, took hold of the bra cup and made an exaggerated close-up examination. The backs of my two fingers touched a hard nipple. “Yes, you’re right, but best not tell your daddy I agree with you, eh?”

Diana made no effort to cover up as she drew me into another long kiss. Holly had much to learn.

“Thank you again,” said Diana, releasing me, and took the money from her purse for the order. “I’ve really enjoyed coming here. Your website is super!”

Buttoning herself up again she asked, “Can I order some more, please, if these are OK?”

“Sure,” I said, “Come round anytime.”

Just then I caught Holly giving us the evil eye. She was jealous, very jealous indeed. If Diana saw the looks then she took no notice at all. Were two friends about to fall out? Diana grabbed me again for another very meaningful kiss.

“I guess I ought to be going. I’ve stuff to do later.”

There was a bus due soon and Diana scooted. I regretted not being able to drive her back as Rachel had the car. It wasn’t until she’d gone I remembered the miniscule pair of panties in my pocket.

I could tell Holly was annoyed. “What the fuck was that all about?” she exploded. “Diana is supposed to be my best friend.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, although I’d a pretty good idea.

“Bur Daddy! How dare you. How DARE you,” reprimanded my little grown-up angel.

“So who told her three buttons and a g-string was the going rate? Diana was only expressing her thanks,” I spat back.

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