Incest story: Meeting Daddy in the Past. Author: geilkoekje11. I’ve been volunteering at the science lab during summer time. I work for Dr. Samuel, helping her in the lab, helping her with whatever experiment she’s passionate about. It’s a great learning experience for me. The story is including of Fiction, Cheating, Incest, Male / Older Female, Oral Sex, Young theme.
Incest story: Meeting Daddy in the Past – Chap 1
Author: geilkoekje11
I’ve been volunteering at the science lab during summer time.
I work for Dr. Samuel, helping her in the lab, helping her with whatever experiment she’s passionate about. It’s a great learning experience for me.
I’m nineteen and in college.
My dad has no problem with me staying with him over the summer, and he’s proud of my achievements.
Dad’s a good guy. It’s been about five years since he and my mom split up. She wanted to travel and he was happy where he was at. So was I.
He’s still a partner at his dad’s law firm and I’m studying physics. Last I heard, Mom was headed for Bermuda.
So, there’s a break from school and I’m heading back to the lab.
It’s my first stop.
Dr. Samuel is even more excited than usual and she leads me into the lab.
I peer around her at the large, metal sphere in the middle of her laboratory.
“Have you ever wanted to go back in time?”
I shrug. “I’ve thought about it. Sure.”
She’s less than impressed with my meager enthusiasm.
“Don’t tell me, Doctor. You’ve created a time machine?”
“Well… yes. So far it only goes backward in time. It transports a physical shape back twenty years. It lasts for about four hours and then, the shape rematerializes in the present.”
“Why twenty years?”
“It just seems to be the easiest number,” she says, waving away my concerns. “Unfortunately for me, I was already working here at the lab. I was about your age twenty years ago. If I travel back in time, I run the risk of seeing myself and creating a time paradox.”
“So you haven’t tried it?”
“No. I’m afraid it will have catastrophic repercussions on our current dimension in reality.”
I sigh. I know where she’s going with this. “Let me guess. You want me to be the first to try it.”
Immediately she tries to coax me. “It’s already been successful. I sent Mina back and she returned, completely unharmed.” Mina is her little, white, lab rat.
“What do I do once I’m back in the mid-nineties?”
“Well. You can’t do much but look around. If you interact with people you know, the outcome could be catastrophic. I want you to observe only. In three or four hours, you’ll be right back in this lab. Mere moments will pass for me.”
“Alright,” I agree.
Without further ado, she thrusts a back pack into my hands, ushers me into the metal sphere and closes the hatch. “Don’t worry about returning,” she says, her voice muffled by the thick glass. “You will automatically be returned to this time in space in less than four hours.”
“Four hours,” I repeat. Maybe I should be a little more hesitant, but I trust Dr. Samuels. She would never put me in danger.
And honestly, I don’t think this will work.
The doctor gives me a thumbs up and starts pressing panels.
I take the time to check the contents of the back pack.
There’s a funny outfit inside, a stack of hundred dollar bills—each dated before 1995, a bulky cell phone and a fake ID. It says my name is Huntra Jackson. I start to ask Dr. Samuels about the name, but a flash of light stuns me.
I shake my head to clear it.
When I can see again, I’m sitting on a park bench.
I look around.
Behind me is the lab. It’s much smaller than it used to be.
Or… will be.
It worked? I’m in 1995?
Everything seems pretty much the same. Maybe a little cleaner.
I look down at my high-school class of 2013 t-shirt and realize I need to change. I’m sure anyone who notices will think it’s a joke.
I know the area. This is where I grew up. Or where I will grow up.
I make my way to the hotel two blocks down. I’ll need a place to set up anyway. I grin when I get the total for my room. Cheap!
In the room, I shower and change into the outfit. Inside is a sketch from the doctor showing how the clothes are meant to be worn.
I’m now wearing a red plaid skirt and a black t-shirt with ruffles on the front. I scowl at a red headband, but I want to follow the Doc’s directions, so I slide it onto my head.
I look into the mirror. I have long, curly black hair, so the outfit matches me, but headbands are way out of style.
Shrugging, I pick up the tiny, black bag and slip my fake ID into it, along with a few hundred dollars.
Huntra Jackson. I’m Huntra Jackson for now.
The lady at the front desk gives me snaps on my outfit.
I wander into the street feeling devious. What should I do? I know I’m not supposed to interact with anyone I know, but there should be no problem if I just spy a little.
None of my friends have been born yet.
My mom and dad haven’t even met yet.
I wonder what dad was like—or is like now.
He’s been so rigid and proper for all the years I’ve known him. He’s gotta be, like, nineteen in this time period. Twenty?
But where would he be? It’s summer, so he’d probably already be home for summer.
I head to his dad’s law firm. It looks practically the same. The sign is different. Instead of McArthur and McArthur, it says, McArthur and Chase.
Of course Dad wouldn’t be partner yet.
I feel excited staring at the revolving doors of the business building. I shouldn’t be here.
Suddenly, a scene takes my attention.
A security guard is ushering some guy in a leather jacket out onto the street to my left.
“Your dad doesn’t want you in here,” the guard says firmly.
“Hey, don’t tell me what to do, ya fuckin’ rent-a-cop.”
The guard swells but the guy holds his ground with a jerk of his head.
The guard scoffs and heads back to the building.
The guy spits and murmurs, “Like I care what the old man thinks.” He tugs on his leather jacket and starts walking away.
I have trouble moving.
That tough guy.
That’s my dad.
He’s young. A little older than me.
I want to approach him but I look down at my outfit. I look like such a goody goody. I wish the Doctor had slipped me a leather jacket instead. I don’t want him to think I’m… square or whatever the lingo is back—now.
My dad turns the corner and I hurry to catch up.
I can’t believe I found him so easily.
I turn the corner and rush on, but double back. I saw my dad down an alleyway.
I don’t see him anymore, so I cautiously walk down the alley. There are other alleys branching from the one I’m on in both directions.
Suddenly, someone snaps their fingers and I find each of my arms being held by smelly thugs.
My dad steps out in front of me, smirking dangerously. A line of lackeys follow close behind him.
He looks so different. So young. His black hair has always been thick, but now it’s a little longer, hanging in his eyes. His brown eyes narrow, watching me.
He looks like he’s found a toy.
The thug on my left squeezes too tightly and I yelp.
“Easy,” my dad says. “She’s got delicate skin.”
Of course my daddy wouldn’t hurt a girl, no matter his age. I sigh with relief.
He steps forward and stares down into my eyes. He smells much better than any of these thugs. “Hi daddy,” I say with a happy smile.
His eyes narrow. “What?”
Oh shit. I got too excited, felt too comfortable and I let the wrong thing slip.
“I mean. Hi, um, guy.”
He inspects me closely, reaching out his hand to lift my chin, turning my face this way and that. “Did Hugo send you?”
“Hugo?”
My dad snaps again and my purse is ripped off my shoulder. Most of them grin over the few hundred dollar bills but my dad focuses on the ID.
“Huntra Jackson,” he scoffs. He looks at me.
I smile back, still happily. I’m glad that he’s the one in charge. I know he’s a good man and won’t hurt me.
He turns to a thug. “She’s from Hugo, don’t you think?”
The thug nods. “Seems like something he would do. She’s almost too good to believe, though.”
Dad laughs. “Hugo doesn’t work with amateurs. She looks good ’cause she’s supposed to.”
I don’t understand what they’re talking about, but I feel I should make something clear. “I don’t know any Hugo.”
All their eyes are on me.
My dad licks his lips and snaps again. “Give her money back, then everybody fuck off.”
I sigh as my arms are released, my purse is returned, and the thugs slink off into the shadows.
My dad steps closer to me and I smile warmly. “Hi.”
One corner of his lip curls, as though he can’t help himself. “Hi.”
“I was worried there,” I say. “You hang out with some scary people.”
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