AUTHOR: T. A. BEAU

TITLE: Double-Dipping My Mind-Controlled Daughter With Her Twin Brother on Thanksgiving

SUBTITLE: A NONCON, Mind Control/Hypnosis, DAD/Daughters, Brother/Sister Erotica Short Story with double penetration and anal.

Copyright © 2025 T. A. BEAU

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.

WORD COUNT: 8100 words

MINDWARP HYPNOSIS SERIES #8

It all feels so vivid, so real. It’s hard to believe it’s just a dream. Her lips are soft and warm, pressing against my cock, sliding down the long, thick hardness of me with a wet, eager hunger.

Fuck.

I’ve fantasized about this moment forever-my celebrity crush, the one I’ve dreamed about fucking for years, finally here, finally mine. Her tongue swirls around the tip of my cock, teasing, coaxing, and I groan, my hips lifting off the bed to meet her mouth. God, she’s so fucking good.

But then something shifts. It’s her face-her face isn’t right. I frown. What the hell is going on?

It’s no longer her. My breath hitching in my throat, I watch as her features blur, morphing into someone else, someone familiar. Someone I know all too well.

No. No, no, no.

It’s Dallas.

My daughter.

I jerk awake-or at least, I think I do. My heart pounds in my chest, my skin slick with sweat. But the sensation doesn’t stop. The warmth of her mouth, the way she hollows her cheeks against my cock-it’s still there. And when my eyes fly open, so is she.

Dallas.

It’s not a dream!

Her face is inches from mine, her dark hair cascading over my thighs, her lips wrapped around my cock. My cock. She’s sucking me like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like she’s been doing it for years. My brain screams at me to stop her, to push her away, to do something, but my body betrays me. My hands hover above her head, trembling, unsure.

This is wrong. This is so wrong.

But, fuck, it feels good. Too good. The way her tongue flicks against the underside of my shaft, the way her lips tighten around me, the way she looks up at me with those big, innocent eyes-no, not innocent, not anymore. Her gaze is heavy, lidded, almost hungry, and it sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

“D-Dallas,” I choke out, my voice strained, barely audible. “What…what are you doing?”

She doesn’t answer, not with words. Instead, she takes me deeper, her throat opening to swallow me whole. I can’t help it-I groan, my head falling back against the pillows. This is a dream. It has to be a dream. But it’s not. Her hands are on my thighs, her nails digging into my skin, anchoring me in place. She’s real. This is real.

I reach out tentatively, my fingers brushing against her cheek. She feels real. Her skin is soft and warm, and she leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed. For a moment, I forget who she is, forget how wrong this situation is. All I can think about is how good she feels, how perfect she feels.

And then she pulls back, just enough to glance up at me, her lips still wrapped around the tip of my cock. When she speaks, her voice is low, sultry, but robot-like.

“What’s the matter, Daddy?” she says. “Don’t you like it?”

My breath catches. There’s something unnerving about her voice, but I can’t place it. It’s like her words are echoing in my head, distorting, twisting, but before I can process it, before I can even think, she’s swallowing me again, her mouth moving faster, more urgently.

I shouldn’t go along with this, but I can’t stop myself. My hands tangle in her hair, gripping her tightly, forcing her closer. She lets out a muffled moan, the sound vibrating through me, and I lose it. My hips thrust upwards, fucking her mouth, and she takes it, takes everything, her throat tightening around my shaft.

“Dallas,” I gasp, my eyes widening and narrowing. “Fuck, baby, you’re so good. So fucking good.”

Her hands slide up my thighs, her nails scraping against my skin, and it’s enough to push me over the edge. I cum hard, my body shuddering as I empty myself into her mouth. She doesn’t pull away, not even for a second, but drinks me down, her tongue lapping at the tip of my cock, milking every last drop of my cum.

I collapse back against the pillows, my chest heaving. I don’t dare look at my daughter. What the fuck did I just do? Dallas doesn’t seem to give a shit. She crawls up my body, her lips brushing against my chest, my neck, and finally my ear.

“Daddy,” she whispers, her voice still low and sultry, but now with a note of triumph in it. “You taste so good.”

I shiver, my hands still tangled in her hair. I should push her away. I have to push her away. But I don’t. I can’t. She’s too close, too warm, too real.

And then she’s kissing me, her lips soft but insistent, and I don’t stop her. I can’t. Her tongue slips into my mouth, and I groan, my body responding despite the guilt gnawing at the edges of my mind.

“Dallas,” I breathe. “We…we can’t do this.”

She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes dark with desire. “Why not, Daddy? Don’t you want me?”

Her words hang in the air, heavy, suffocating. I do want her. Fuck, I’ve wanted her for months now, ever since something about her changed. I don’t know what it is-the way she carries herself, the way she looks at me-but it’s been driving me crazy.

And now here she is, in my arms, her body pressed against mine, and I can’t fight it anymore. I can’t fight her.

“Dallas,” I whisper. “You’re my daughter.”

She smiles, a slow, knowing smile that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m more than that, Daddy. I’m everything.”

Dallas wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips glistening in the dim light of my bedroom. She stands slowly, her movements deliberate, almost teasing.

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

I don’t respond. My mind is reeling, my body still tingling. What the fuck just happened? The question loops in my head, but there’s no answer, only the echoing sensation of her lips around my cock, her tongue pleasuring me, the way she looked up at me with those hungry eyes.

She walks out of the room, her hips swaying faintly, and I’m frozen in place, my heart pounding like it’s trying to burst from my chest. The door clicks shut behind her, and I’m alone again, alone with the weight of what we’ve just done.

I lie there, staring at the ceiling, my hands gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. Was it real? Did that actually happen? I want to believe it was a dream, but the taste of her on my skin, the dulling ache between my legs-they’re too real to dismiss.

Should I get up and stop her, talk to her? It doesn’t matter whether I want to or not. My body won’t obey. I’m practically paralyzed, not just by guilt, but...something else. Something deeper. Something I’ve been fighting for months now.

The clock on my nightstand ticks, the sound unnaturally loud in the silence. I can’t possibly go back to sleep. My mind races, replaying every second of what just happened, every touch, every sound, every breath.

This is wrong, I think. This is so wrong.

So why is my cock hardening again at the thought of my daughter?

I’m doomed.

***

Morning comes too soon. The sunlight spills through the blinds, and I’m still lying there, my eyes gritty, my head pounding. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, but it’s not physical. I force myself to sit up, my legs trembling slightly as I swing them over the side of the bed. I need coffee. I need something to ground me, to make sense of this.

But how do you make sense of what happened? asks a voice in my head.

I stumble into the kitchen, my mind still foggy, my nerves on edge. The smell of coffee hits me, and I’m grateful for it, for the familiarity, the normalcy.

But then I see her.

Dallas is at the counter, her back to me, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders. She’s wearing a loose tank top and shorts, her legs long and smooth, and I can’t help but notice how different she looks now. How grown she looks.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. She turns, her big, innocent eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she says, sweet and innocent.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Daddy. It’s a word I’ve heard a thousand times, but now it’s loaded, twisted. It’s the word she used yesterday while sucking hard on my cock.

I mutter something, my voice hoarse, and she turns back to the counter, pouring a cup of coffee like nothing happened. She hands me the cup, her fingers brushing mine, and I feel that jolt again, that electric pull that terrifies me.

“What time are you and Mac teeing off?” she asks casually.

I blink, struggling to process her words. “Uh, ten,” I manage to say, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

She nods, sipping her coffee, her eyes never leaving mine. “What are you guys doing after? Anything fun?”

I shake my head, my mind racing. Why is she acting like this? Why is she pretending nothing happened? It’s like she’s playing a game, only I don’t know the rules.

“Just lunch, maybe,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

She smiles, and there’s something in it-something mischievous, something that makes my stomach twist. “Sounds fun. I’m hanging out with friends tomorrow, but maybe we can do something after?”

I nod, but I’m not really listening. My mind is a mess, a jumble of thoughts and emotions I can’t untangle. How can she be so calm? How can she act like everything’s normal?

Before I can say anything else, Mac walks into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in every direction, his face still half-asleep. “Morning,” he grumbles, grabbing a cup of coffee.

Dallas rolls her eyes. “Sleep much?”

Mac glares at her. “Shut up, sis.”

Normally, I’d step in and tell both my kids to knock it off, but today, I’m grateful for the distraction. Their bickering is familiar, grounding. It’s something I can hold onto, something that makes sense in the chaos of my mind. But even as they argue, I can’t stop thinking about what Dallas did last night.

What I let her do.

The reality of it hits me like a tidal wave, and I immediately feel sick. She’s my daughter. She’s my daughter. The words are a mantra in my head, but they don’t help. They don’t change what happened. Or what I want more than my next breath.

I take a sip of my coffee, but it tastes bitter, wrong. My stomach churns, and I set the cup down, my hands trembling.

“You okay, Dad?” Mac asks, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

I force a smile, but it feels like a lie. “Yeah, just...tired.”

He nods, not questioning it, and I’m grateful for that. My mind is a battlefield, guilt and desire warring for control, and I don’t know which one’s winning.

The morning passes in a blur. We get ready for golf, the routine familiar, but I’m on autopilot, and my thoughts constantly slip back to Dallas. To last night.

We’re standing in the driveway when Mac suddenly groans. “I forgot my clubs.”

I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “Go get them.”

He jogs back into the house, leaving me alone with Dallas. She’s leaning against the car, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes fixed on me.

“You’re quiet this morning, Daddy,” she says, her voice soft, teasing.

I don’t respond. I can’t. My throat is tight, my heart pounding.

She steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “Didn’t sleep well?”

I shake my head, my voice catching in my throat. “Dallas...”

Mac returns, his clubs in hand, and the moment is broken. But as we drive to the course, I can’t stop thinking about her.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

***

The ball sails wide, missing the hole by at least three feet. That’s the fourth putt I’ve shanked today. Uncle Pete gives me a sidelong glance but says nothing. He knows better than to comment on another man’s game, especially when that man is me.

“You seem distracted today, Ted,” my brother James says, clapping me on the shoulder. “Not like you to miss easy ones.”

I nod, forcing a smile as I retrieve my ball. “Just one of those days.”

But it’s not just one of those days. I feel like I’m sleepwalking through the round, moving on autopilot while my mind races elsewhere. My gaze keeps drifting across the rolling green toward the clubhouse patio, where Dallas sits with her mother and aunts. She’s picking at her food, shoulders hunched, not engaging in conversation. I know that posture-she’s still upset about the fight with Mac this morning.

They’ve been at each other’s throats since we arrived for Thanksgiving, worse than their usual sibling rivalry. But after what happened last night...I shiver, remembering the feel of her tongue swirling on the tip of my cock, moaning against me.

What the hell got into her?

“Earth to Teddy.” James waves his hand in front of my face. “You’re up again.”

I tear my eyes away from Dallas and line up my shot, but I’m not really seeing the green or the flag. I’m seeing the expression on my daughter’s face last night-desire mixed with something else I couldn’t place.

My shot goes wide again. James and Pete exchange glances.

“Maybe we should call it a day,” James suggests. “We can hit the back nine tomorrow when you’re more...present.”

I nod gratefully. “Yeah, I think I need a break.”

Walking back toward the clubhouse, I see Mac joining his cousins near the fire pit. The kids are making s’mores, but Mac hangs back, his eyes following Dallas as she abruptly stands and walks away from the patio, heading toward the gardens. Without thinking, I veer away from James and Pete.

“I’m going to check on Dallas,” I call over my shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

I follow Dallas’s path into the manicured gardens. The November air is crisp, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and fallen leaves. I find her sitting on a stone bench, staring at the koi pond.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, sitting beside her. “You okay?”

Dallas shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “Just needed some air.”

“You and Mac need to ease up on each other,” I say gently. “This vacation is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“It’s not me,” she mutters. “He’s being impossible.”

I hesitate, wanting to ask her about last night, but something holds me back. “What’s going on between you two lately? This seems like more than your usual bickering.”

Dallas tenses beside me. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

We sit in silence for a moment before she stands abruptly. “I should go help Aunt Caroline with the pie.”

I watch her retreat, the unasked questions burning in my throat. I need to talk to Mac.

I find him with his cousins, laughing as they toast marshmallows. He’s always been the more outgoing of the twins, drawing people to him effortlessly. He’s already developing into a charmer like his grandfather.

“Mac,” I call. “Got a minute?”

He follows me to a quiet spot near the tennis courts, his expression guarded.

“What’s up, Dad?”

“I need you to lay off your sister,” I say firmly. “Whatever’s going on between you two, it needs to stop. She’s upset.”

Mac’s face softens unexpectedly. “You’re right. I’ll ease up.”

His quick capitulation surprises me. “Just like that?”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sure. Besides, I always look forward to the night. She’s much easier to control at night.”

I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the November air. “What do you mean by that?”

Mac’s smile turns into something I don’t recognize-something knowing and secretive. “Did you enjoy the present I sent you, Dad?”