Donald Packer sometimes thought his daughter, Janis, wasn't very bright. For years the family had employed webcams and motion detectors as part of their home security system. They even had those CCTV doorbell things, and most of the devices ran off of Wi-Fi and internet feeds to family cellphones. Don could even tell, though he almost never cared, at what time specific doors and windows had opened and closed.
He had accidentally busted Janis dozens of times fibbing, sneaking, or flat-out lying. Cameras in the living room or den had recorded her side of some of her private phone calls as she wandered around the house while chatting on her mobile. When she turned 13, he was pretty sure that the bathroom window upstairs was being opened a lot to vent cigarette smoke. The hallway camera showed her entering and leaving the bath, but there was rarely any sound of a toilet being flushed.
Once Janis was in high school, she would slip in quietly long after her curfew and then be surprised the next day when Don reminded her that the DoorCam had recorded her actual arrival an hour or more late. He didn't tell her, though she should have known, that it also recorded the goodnight kisses and clumsy groping by her dates when they brought her home!
Now that his daughter was 19 years old she didn't have a curfew anymore, but there were still rules to be followed. "No damned cigarettes" was one of them, and it seemed she spoke the truth when she promised she no longer thought it made her cool to smoke or vape.
So when Janis snuck her latest boyfriend in one night while Don and her mom had a date night out, Don knew the score and yet marveled at her audacity. Janis had arranged for Brice to enter and leave through the screen door on the back deck to avoid the two main DoorCams, but there was no way she could have shut off or disabled the motion detectors or the "NannyCam" in the main rooms.
Of course, there were no cameras in bedrooms or bathrooms, so when Janis and Brice entered her room they did have complete privacy. But when the hall camera showed her escorting him out two hours later, she was now wearing pajamas and a robe. Don figured they had enjoyed themselves.
And, to his shame and discomfort, he very briefly wished there *was* a camera in there. His discomfort manifested itself in another way - he decided not to chide her for sneaking her boyfriend in. He figured that since he didn't want to open a discussion of what she had done in her bedroom, it was best to let this sleeping dog lie.
Don and his wife Tracy worked downtown, and their suburban home was fairly distant. So Wednesday nights became their date nights. It was easy to meet after work at a nice restaurant without trekking home and then back downtown.
Wednesday night became party night for Janis and Brice, too. Janis wondered why her parents never said anything to her because she knew (finally!) from experience that her Dad's security system filmed them walking around in the house. It was Brice, not usually the sharpest knife, who explained it to her.
"Jan, no girl's Dad wants to talk to her about her fucking her boyfriend. I'll bet he's pretending you're a virgin. My Dad talked to Chad and me about sex, and dates, and boobs and stuff. But he never talked to our sisters about any of that. Dads can't talk to daughters about sexual stuff."
And so the seed was planted in Janis' mind: her sex made her Dad uncomfortable - and passive. The overbearing macho man who nagged her about grades, and her clothes, and even what she ate? He didn't have the balls to speak to her about sex. He didn't dare reproach her for anything raunchy she did. She had a free pass.
***
She became bolder and more sexually empowered every week. She would walk Brice out in her pajamas but without a robe, and then in her lingerie without pajamas. Her Dad said nothing. He began to watch the videos in his home office with the door closed and locked. He never mentioned any of what was happening, or how he felt about it, to his wife.
Then Brice was getting "welcome" and "goodbye" kisses and caresses in the living room. Don was tongue-tied and indecisive. He hated himself for playing with his penis while watching Janis. And yet he said nothing to her. What could he possibly say? Janis was a woman now, and this was her house, too. How could he explain watching her all the time?
He did begin vaguely to wonder if she was taunting him on purpose, showing him more teenage skin each week. When she finally walked Brice out of her room and down the hall topless, Don had to assume Janis knew what she was doing.
He wracked his brain for a way to tell her to stop what she was doing - and said nothing. He watched her breasts sway as she walked, then rewound and watched again. His pants were at his ankles and he masturbated vigorously. He was so ashamed of himself. He knew his baby girl was playing him for a chump, but God, what tits the girl had. Her mother paled in comparison.
Her mother was also getting better sex, although she didn't know why. If Wednesdays were date nights, Thursdays had become fuck nights. Tracy would wear her naughtiest nightgowns to bed and wait for Don to finish his "work" in their home office. It was obvious to Tracy that whatever real work Don did, it ended with some internet porn because he came to bed with his cock as hard as a rock. She used to hate the thought of her husband watching webcam whores or whatever, but he wasn't as young as he used to be, and if it got her railed once in a while, maybe she could look the other way.
Don eventually realized that Janis was keeping their naughty relationship, if that is what it was, from Brice. One night Janis enticed him to a torrid make-out session on the sofa, ending with more than a touch of oral sex. She flat-out lied to Brice that she had switched off the security system. The next day Don repeatedly watched his daughter suck her boyfriend's cock right in front of the camera on the mantelpiece. She stared right at the camera lens and smiled. Don never mentioned it to her. He was disgusted with himself for whimpering her name as he ejaculated.
Several months after this all began Janis was riding on top of Brice's cock on the living room sofa. She had lit a fire in the fireplace, and the gas flames beautifully illuminated her naked sweaty body as she rose and plunged back down on her boyfriend's rigid cock. Brice was, Don now knew, quite a powerhouse when it came to sex, and could fuck Janis for an hour while she orgasmed two or three times.
This night she dangled her breasts in his face and told him that she wanted to experience a "threesome". Brice seemed unconcerned about sharing his girl with a friend. He suggested two or three different guys "who tell me all the time how fucking hot you are, Baby."
"Surprise me," she said. "I'll fuck anyone you want."
In his den the next day, watching this for the fourth time, Don squirted the biggest load of his life when he heard his daughter offer herself to a random guy. He used to be able to close his eyes and remember her selling Girl Scout cookies. When he closed his eyes now he saw Janis getting spit-roasted. By him and Brice. He was so ashamed of himself. And hard.
