The Scent of Jasmine: Electra Rises

Jasmine playfully slaps at her.

Amira asks Jasmine to close her eyes. She obeys.

'What would you do if he kissed you?' Amira asks

Jasmine shakes her head. Amira leans forward. Jasmine confused, new sensations awakening in her. She feels Amira's soft, plush lips against hers. Her tired mind, vulnerable to suggestion, imagining her father.

The slight trace of her tongue against her lips. A maddening, intoxicating ardor fills her. She kisses back.

Amira withdraws. Jasmine opens her eyes as Amira stands up, walks to the bedroom door and locks it.

********

Tim received a much truncated version of the story, but his mind was already flooded with distracting hormones and deviant hopes.

Jasmine felt herself moisten. Her groin tingles. She question herself briefly over what excited her more, her recounting of that one time, or the look on her father's face. It was, of course, both.

She had wanted to tell him earlier. But she knew that the path they had taken would be difficult. She knew she had to save something for him. To inspire him.

"What are you thinking about? Daddy?" She knew how to judge his moods now. She knew he liked being called that when his temperament was just right, when it would fire him. And now she knew when it made him feel guilty. She felt herself convulse with pleasure. She had managed to seduce her own father, make him feel what she felt.

"You and Amira..." his voice cracking.

"Anything in particular?"

"Never mind that." He replied. "Dessert?"

Despite not having finished the main course, Tim summoned the waiter and signed the meal to his room.

Part of the plan ... they went to the bar.

He ordered an Old-fashioned and a Lychee Martini for her. They linked arms and drank, hands on each other thighs. She had wanted him to surprise her. To plan something.

He suggested they move to a quiet table, in the corner. They slipped into a quiet booth, a leather bound couch. He tilted himself, allowing them to kiss. Just as he tasted her tongue he pulled back, and whispered into her ear.

He looked at her - Jasmine's eyes alight, flickering with nervous passion at his suggestion.

She took the object from his hands. Trembling. He did get it. He knew what to do.

She took the toy from his hands and excused herself.

The ladies restroom was empty apart from one stall. Good enough. She moved into the farthest clear stall and lifted the hem of her dress.

Her lacy knickers lay over her stockings and were easy to remove over her heels. As he had asked, she put them in her small clutch bag and looked at the love-eggs her father had given her.

She crouched a little, spreading her legs, one arm against the stall door. She knew she was moist enough already. She manoeuvred the toy in her hand, and pressed the first ball against her lips.

She felt her labia part, felt herself opening for the gift. Slowly feeling herself spreading as the first orb entered her, parting her. A satisfying pleasure as it slipped into her, closing around it. She heard herself give a small whimper, knowing more was to come. The second one entering... thinking of him...

********

Tim watched her walk back those short twenty yards. The natural sway of her hips ... occasionally interrupted by some sort of brief spasm. To onlookers it might have looked as if she was about to sneeze.

She sat next to him on that dark booth. Looking straight ahead, trying to compose herself. For the first time in a while, evens since that afternoon in his bedroom, his old bedroom, he felt in control. In control of his own daughter, in a way he have never imagined.

She turned to face him, her face flush with a mixture of pleasure and ... embarrassment? Submission? Some aspect of female sexuality he would never know?

Tim placed a hand on her thigh, just below the skirt hem. Feeling the warmth of her thigh. Feeling her rising sensuality as his own.

With the other hand, he picked up his drink and finished it. It moved to his pocket and removed his wallet.

He pulled out a twenty pound note.

"Jasmine, honey. Would you like another drink?"

Her Martini disappeared down her throat in a swift gulp. She looked at her father, almost unable to speak, and nodded.

"Good girl." He moved the banknote towards her. "I'll have the same. An Old Fashioned."

Tim enjoyed the brief look of disbelief that fluttered across her face. A fresh glimpse of an innocence lost. Innocence surrendered, given.

Jasmine took the cash from her father. He could see her recompose herself before she rose.

She closed her eyes as she turned towards the bar. She set off slowly.

Tim noticed her hips move as she walked, her head down. Halfway to the bar she stopped and held onto the back of the chair of a stranger.

The stranger turned to ask her if she was ok, but she simply sauntered onwards to the bar.

She arrived, standing still. Waiting...

It was not long, perhaps too soon, Tim thought, that the bartender asked for her order.

Maybe he could play games just as well, he thought.

Picking up the drinks, leaving all the change, she turned. It was a new experience, one of many she had brought him, seeing her squirm as she moved.

Each step she took massaged the love eggs within her. Her eyes closing involuntarily, then advancing. A tremor of her body. People looking at her. Almost believing he could see her blush beneath that perfect, flawless mocha skin.

She sat down. Breathless.

Tim knew what he was doing."Jasmine, show me."

Breathless, she opened her bag by her side.

Tim saw the black panties inside. He turned them over, a faint stain of juices evident.

"Good girl." He whispered into her ear. "Now lift your skirt."

Jasmine's eyes flashed at him. What did he mean?

He nodded again, repeating the instruction. "Do what daddy says."

Jasmine looked around. No-one was watching. Her hands reached down and lifted the back of her dress. She was conscious that it might show and made sure it still covered her thighs. Yet still she felt the cool leather of the upholstery against her backside. A new thrill.

Tim took a sip of his drink. Looking to his side he saw Jasmine almost frozen into place with pleasure. He reached over and turned his face to his.

"Cross your legs, hun."

She did as she was told. Tim placed his hand on her upper thigh, gently rocking it. For the first time, in public, he kissed her.

She breathed heavily over his lips as the love-eggs rolled within her, savouring his command...

He reached between her thighs ... she parted them.

A single finger coiled over the small loop resting outside the edge of her lips. A knuckle massage her clitoris.

"Jasmine, have you been a good girl?"

"Yes, daddy..."

Tim gripped the loop. "Then show daddy you've been keeping your pussy tight for him."

Jasmine dropped her head into her father's shoulder. Shuddering as he dragged the love eggs through her. She looked around the room half hoping someone was watching, but her eyes were clouded, rendered blind by ecstasy. The second part of the toy slipped out of her ... she convulsed, a gentle, broken moan escaping from her.

Her father told her to put them back in.

********

They took an elevator back upstairs with another, older couple. Jasmine toyed with the idea of outing them to these strangers, but held back. Slowly, she thought to herself. Slowly.

Tim was leaning against the back wall, so she moved in front of him and leaned against him.

The old man looked at her. She dropped her eyes, raised her head into her father's chest and gently, subtly moved her backside against his groin.

She felt him stiffen, his back as well, and slowed her play.

The old man in the elevator could not help but leer, until he saw his wife notice. Jasmine burned with the desire to tell him who her lover was. She wondered who his daughter was, and if he had ever desired her over the sour woman next to him.

Her father's hand clenched over her bare shoulder. Strong and firm. She shuddered at the thought of what was to come. What they had agreed to.

********

Tim opened the door, letting Jasmine through first. He was sure she exaggerated the movement of her hips as she did and enjoyed every second of it, maybe to increase the pleasure of the love-eggs within her.

She sat on the end of the bed and closed her eyes, hands by her sides, gripping the covers.

He needed to be sure. "Jasmine, you know I love you?"

Eyes still closed, she nodded.

"We can, you know, we can just enjoy ourselves normally. We don't have to ..." He couldn't finish.

Jasmine opened her eyes and looked at him. Into him. "It's what I want. I know the safe word."

Tim moved towards his suitcase. There was a leather holdall inside that he removed. He looked at Jasmine. For a moment he hesitated. It had been a long time since he had done anything like this, despite the increasing games the two of them had played. Did he want to do this to Jasmine? To his own ...

She opened her eyes, the effect as powerful as ever on him.

"I'm yours, daddy."

********

Jasmine knelt on the foot of the bed. Her arms high, tied to the top of the posts that cornered the bottom of the bed. Her dress on the floor by Tim's feet.

Tim contemplated the beauty in front of him. The chestnut smoothness of her flawless skin exposed to her. Her hair down now, just reaching her shoulders.

Standing behind her, he took hold of the loop of the love eggs, placing the slightest tension on them.

"You have to do better this time, baby."

"Yes, daddy."

This time it provoked no doubts in his mind. He started to pull again, knowing she would fail.

His girl trembled as she struggled, gripped them as well as she could. He could feel the resistance as he moved them through her. He felt his own desire grow further as he watched her body react to their removal. First one, then the next. A shiver with each sphere.

He gripped her hair. The timorous nature that affected him earlier completely gone.

"Not good enough, baby."

Jasmine whimpered, her extended body quivering in front of him. He removed his shirt, finding it damp with perspiration already.

He went to the bag, and pulled out a gentle leather flog.

The handle felt almost insubstantial in his hands. He let the straps run through his hands. He heard her whimper.

He took in her sublime body, concentrating on her arse.

He pulled the flog back, and let a long stroke drag across her backside.

Jasmine felt the flog pierce her senses. A sting followed by a flame through her groin, all highlighted by her vulnerability.

A second, a third. The pain amplifying her yielding to him...

The fourth impact nearly made her come.

Jasmine dropped her head, almost disappearing, losing herself.

She felt him drag his fingernails from the crease of her knees, over her behind, along her back. Each inch of his touch electrifying her, a sharp contrast to the flog.

A rough hand grabbed her left breast, pulling tightly on her nipple. Hearing him saying something. Not understanding anything but surrender.

A needling pleasure between her legs as the flog landed there. She heard herself scream, as if it were someone else, the sensation being so intense.

Something she did not expect - the flog fell across her back. No sensual pleasure there, but a feeling of total subjugation. An new, unique sensation of existing for no other reason than being a source of pleasure for someone else.

Again, the flog against her back. Again, and again.

Tim stopped to hear his daughter's cries. He knew she felt the bite of pain, but it didn't matter. Not now. The depth of her breathing, the tremble of her body. All of it excited him.

"This is One." Tim said, bringing the tool up rapidly between her legs. Indulging himself in her cries.

"This is Two." He swiped the flog across his daughters backside.

Her head flew back, her hair a swarm of dark temptation.

He steadied himself, relishing the beauty tied out in front of him.

"This is three." The leather tails came across her back.

He was almost disturbed by the noise she made. Almost.

He ran his hand up her neck, taking a tight grip of her hair, pulling her back sharply. "You've been a bad little slut, and daddy needs to correct you."

"I understand ... daddy ..." she gasped.

"Tell me. Which number should it be?"

Jasmine looked over her shoulder. Her hair now dripping with sweat.

"One." She said.

She said it ten times.

He took her hands from the bed posts, and told her to lie spread eagle on the bed.

Jasmine obliged.

First, he fastened her hands with the white leather straps to the top of the bed. As he took her right leg, he began to falter...

What are you doing? What are you doing to her...your daughter?

He pulled her hand straps loose and sat on the edge of the bed, his mind a mass of confusion.

He closed his eyes against the world, hiding himself from what he had done. What he was doing.

He tried to repress it..

Jasmine sensed his unease. She knew she had to be careful. She knew not to call him 'daddy'. Not now.

She shifted over to him, wrapping an arm over his shoulder.

"I love you, Tim." She said.

Her father started to cry. A small sob at first, trying to hold the rest back. And succeeding. There was strength still here.

"Tim? Tim? Lie back."

She held him close, whispering into his ear - "Do you love me?"

He nodded.

Jasmine stroked his cheek. Part of her understood. It was a risk, asking her father to subject her to bondage. But she loved him, desired him. Desired him as the man she knew, before the divorce.

"Tim? Are you listening to me?"

He was calm now. He nodded again.

"I loved every second of that, truly." Her hand trailed down his chest. She noticed he was still hard.

"You think we are doing something bad, Tim?"

He was still now. She needed to be careful.

"I know you think, sometimes, I am too young ... but you have to know, this is more than just a thrill to me. More than just acting out a ..." she struggled for an adjective, decided it was not necessary ..." a fantasy."

She felt him throb in her hand. She massaged him. He exhaled deeply. She took it as a good sign.

She slipped off the bed, and tenderly removed his trousers. She watched carefully. He was still hard, he had not moved.

She moved herself over her father's thighs, wondering if this was the end.

His hard cock nestled in front of her pelvis. She gently rocked over him ... a hand over his chest, the other holding his cock close to her. She needed him, needed to keep him. Needed to remind him that he needed her.

She gambled.

"I love you. Do you still love me, daddy?"

His eyes opened, a hand immediately moving to her waist. A look close to despair. His eyes shut again.

"Yes, always, Jasmine. Always."

She took her father hands and encouraged him to sit up.

As he did, eyes, still closed, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing him deeply. She felt his hands on her hips, drawing her close.

Careful now, she thought to herself. Careful.

She stooped forward, gently taking his earlobe into her mouth. She hummed a little laugh.

"Did I worry you?"

"I just, just worry sometimes about..." her father mumbled.

"Daddy?" All or nothing, she told herself.

"Yes?"

Jasmine braced herself, gripping her father's hair, moving her chest into his face.

"So long now, so long you've been so good to me." She pushed him back to the bed, leant over him, doing her best to make her eyes seem innocent and adoring.

"Don't you think ... maybe ..." she whispered.

She felt him stir. It was working.

"Don't you think you deserve me?"

His hands ran quickly over her hips. She knew it was working.

"Because I loved that. What we just did."

There was a tremble in his voice as he said "Why?"

She studied his reaction carefully. Was that tremor lust or fear? She would have to gamble. He tilted her head. "Because daddy deserves everything."

She couldn't translate his sigh ...

He grabbed his daughter and spun her around to the bed. It had worked, she beamed at him, nothing but joy.

"Whatever you want, Daddy."

She felt her strong hands raise her hips. She felt his cock press against her anus. She knew she had won him.

She relaxed easily this time ... feeling him fill her. Their ownership of each other complete. She was convinced.

********

Tim's wife got out of bed. Her date hadn't stayed the night. He hadn't stayed much past dinner - not that they finished it. Maybe cooking for a younger man was a mistake. Maybe it reminded him too much of his mother.

Not that he seemed to mind at the time. Once, straight there on the dining room table. A second time in the lounge. A slight throbbing, a mild soreness between her legs reminding her of the young man's energy. She headed to the shower.

The shower that her ex-husband was in yesterday.

The final remnants of last night's pleasure faded from her. Why the hell did he take a shower?

Something else wasn't right. Jasmine had said they had a take-away. But there had been no leftovers, mess or ...

Probably just lies. Jasmine had been doing a lot of that since the divorce. No point in fighting over it. She would be back at university soon, then it would be another four months of her house to herself.

But something was nagging at her. Why was Tim in her bedroom at all?

********

12:15.

Tim was late already. Probably on purpose. She wouldn't let it get to her, but she have to remind him that this was her house now.

Shoma fumed. Jasmine, her own daughter, was becoming more difficult by the day. She made herself a coffee and headed to the TV room. She paid no attention to what was on. Her foot slapping in and out of her shoe, beating a rhythm to her increasing annoyance.

She heard the car approach. She sat, contained, waiting for the doorbell. When it sounded, she rose, slowly, smoothed her dress and marched towards the door.

Jasmine beamed, silently and walked past her mother with her luggage.

Instantly enraged, she turned to Tim. "You're late."

Tim smiled, looked at his watch. "Not much. And she's here in one piece."

She didn't trust his smile, didn't like the thought of him being happy. Or Jasmine, as well. The idea of them having secrets annoyed her further.

"That's not the point..." she started, but was interrupted by Jasmine barging past her.

She watched her daughter fling her arms around Tim, a deep hug for her father.

"The point is I might have had plans."

Jasmine kissed her father on the cheek and turned to her. "Like what?", her insolence hidden in her carefree tone.

"I need to go shopping."

Jasmine snorted, a mixture of humour and contempt.

Tim stroked Jasmine's arms. "I'm not staying for this. Take care hun."

"I don't have to let you onto this property, you know. I can get a restraining order."

Tim shook his head and walked back to his car without looking back.

Jasmine walked past her mother again, heading for the stairs.

Her mother grabbed her by the arm.

"Jasmine! I will not be ignored!"

Jasmine turned in fury, wrenching her arm from her mother's grip. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"Jasmine! What the hell is your problem?" She snarled at her daughter. "It's your father, isn't it? Turning you against me? The worthless ..."

"Don't you dare say anything about him! Don't you dare!" Jasmine said.

Shoma's 's face slowly transformed into a vile, snarl. "Oh, you are a right little daddy's girl aren't you?"

Jasmine burned at the words. The truth burned on her lips.

"You're just jealous." The words came out cooly.

"Of what? That old man? That tired, useless, bastard." There was something in her daughter's voice that unsettled her.

"It's you. You realise that, don't you?" Jasmine said.