She tells it how it is

“Yeah that’s better, sometimes you need to get used to the new hardware you know?”

The tone was casual, almost bored, and completely wrong for her. Freya never talked like that. She never sounded that loose. Her face had changed too. The blankness was gone, replaced by an expression more laid back, almost playful, but it still didn’t look like her. The eyes were open and tracking but the person looking out of them wasn’t the daughter who had been lecturing him about protein thirty seconds ago.

She reached up, grabbed a section of her hair, and pulled it to her nose. She took a long, slow breath in.

“Damn! She smells so nice too!”

Then she laughed.

Erik had heard Freya laugh a thousand times. This wasn’t it. This laugh was lower, longer, and it had a filthy little curl at the end of it. It sounded like someone who had just thought of something dirty and was enjoying the thought.

“Freya?? What are you saying? What’s wrong with you?”

His voice came out tight with frustration. He still had one hand half-raised toward her.

Freya just looked at him. She pouted her lips the way she used to when she was little and wanted something, only now it was exaggerated, almost mocking. Then she shrugged his remaining hand off her shoulder like it was nothing.

“What do you mean daddyyyy! I am still your cutie perky baby aren’t I?”

The baby voice was high and sweet and completely fake. While she spoke she brought both arms in and pressed them against the sides of her chest, squishing her round perky tits together so the soft flesh pushed up and inward. The motion made the cleavage deep and obvious under the crop top. She tilted her chin down and looked at him right down that line of skin, eyes half-lidded.

Erik’s face went hot. He tried to turn his head away.

Freya’s hands shot up and caught his jaw on both sides. Her fingers were warm and firm. She turned his face back toward her with surprising strength.

“Come on Daddy? Am I not pretty? Please don’t look away!!? Here! Let me help you have a better look!!”

The excitement in her voice was bright and wrong. Before Erik could pull free she grabbed the bottom hem of her crop top and the bra underneath in both fists and yanked them straight up.

Her perky tits spilled out with a soft, heavy bounce. Pale skin, light pink nipples already a little tight from the cold air of the frozen aisle. They sat high and round on her chest, the same shape he had spent years trying not to notice too closely. Now they were just there, bare, moving slightly with her breathing.

Erik stared for one full second before his brain kicked hard enough to force his eyes away. He locked them on the thin man instead.

“You!! You did this! What did you do to her.”

His voice came out rough. Behind him Freya stayed exactly where she was, hands still holding the bunched-up crop top and bra above her bare tits, that same naughty little expression frozen on her face like someone had pressed pause.

The guy finally spoke. His voice was calm, almost polite, and it carried an ugly little thread of amusement.

“As beautiful as she is, there’s no point staring at the meat puppet.”

Erik’s face went from red to something darker. He took a step forward, hands curling into fists.

“What the fuck did you just call my daughter you fucking asshole!”

Behind him Freya’s voice rang out again, bright and happy.

“A meat puppet daddy! That’s all I am now!”

She said it with real glee, a wide genuine smile splitting her face. Then she spun in a quick little ballerina twirl, hair flaring out, bare tits bouncing with the motion. She landed with her feet together, arms thrown out to the sides in a perfect “tada” pose, and froze solid again.

Erik turned back to the man.

The thin young man was just standing there next to the milk-soaked Latina, watching him with a small, smug smile.

“Listen buddy, whether you like it or not, your daughter is my meat puppet now.”

The words came out of the Latina woman’s mouth. She finally dropped the second empty carton. Plastic hit the wet floor with a dull slap. Milk still dripped from her hair and the soaked white tank top. She jerked her thumb at her own chest.

“Just like this bitch here!”

The thin man threw a lazy arm around her shoulders and squeezed one of those heavy tits through the wet fabric. His fingers sank in. She didn’t flinch. She kept talking like nothing was happening.

“I don’t even need to speak for myself because I can just have my meat puppets…”

Freya’s voice picked up the sentence without missing a beat.

“…speak for me!”