Chapter 10

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I frowned unhappily, holding the black velvet box in my hands. Inside was an expensive tennis bracelet, a gift from one of my customers.

"Shit," Deke shrugged. "Keep it. What's the problem?"

"The guy wants to marry me or something," I sighed. "I don't know what he wants."

"So he's a fuckin' moron? Enjoy it." Deke thought the whole thing was pretty funny, but I didn't.

I'd spent the whole night with Larry, calling him Daddy and letting him make love to me three times before we fell asleep, and then once more in the morning, before he left my room at six. It had taken forever to get him off that last time, because he wasn't a young man anymore, no matter how much he saved himself for our little get-togethers. And I'd tried again to get him to take the bracelet back, but he'd told me it was mine, gave me a kiss and promised to see me again soon.

"He's gonna bring a ring next time," I thought aloud.

"Well, he can't marry you if you say no." Deke yawned. "You go home. I'm gonna call you later, 'kay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, feeling pretty tired myself.

"And don't worry about that guy, he don't mean nothin'," Deke said as I got out of his car, but I thought he was wrong. Everybody meant something.

I'd never even come close to falling in love with the guys who paid for me, but now I was beginning to understand what women had known since the dawn of time. There's a lot of guys out there who fall in love with whoever they fuck. Larry didn't love me, how could he? He didn't even know me. He knew some little part of me, the part that liked pretending I was his daughter, and having sex with my daddy. He was in love with the idea of that person, that's all. I couldn't be her, not all the time, not for him. He wasn't my dad.

I was sneaking back into my house, wearing some hip huggers and a t-shirt out of my suitcase. Thank god I had that in the back of Deke's car. The clothes I'd worn to his place were probably ruined. The skirt for sure, but I supposed the t-shirt would wash clean; it's hard to ruin a t-shirt. I was used to sneaking in, I did it nearly every Sunday morning and it was usually no problem. My dad trusted me, he let me stay at Jen's house about as often as I wanted to, which was a lot ... Every Saturday night basically, when I was really staying at some hotel, either downtown or by the airport. Deke liked to move us around every week.

Yep, I was getting pretty good at sneaking around, lying, making money ... Saturday was payday for me, and I had a couple grand in my purse, rolled up tight with a rubber band around it. Not to mention my biggest tip, the bracelet which I had no clue how much it was worth, the diamonds weren't really big, but there were a lot of them. Call it a grand, maybe two? How was I gonna ever explain that to my dad? Oh, gee, I found it at school, Dad. Can I keep it? Yeah, it was in the box and everything ... Yeah right.

"Kind of an odd time to be coming home, isn't it?" My dad's voice stopped me cold. I was just coming into the kitchen, closing the door behind me slowly so it wouldn't wake him up. But it was too late for that. He stood there in his bathrobe, like he'd been expecting me.

"Oh. Hi Dad." I know the look on my face said it all. I mean, as quick as I could recover, there was a lot of guilt there for a few seconds and we both knew it. He'd really busted me good.

"Where have you been, Samantha?" he asked. Daddy was over by the sink, making coffee, I guess, but doing it slowly.

"I was, um..." I swallowed hard, " ... at a party."

"A party." My dad nodded. "Okay, so ... Tell me about it."

"Uh, well it was just a party. Some people, high school guys were having it." I just stood there.

"Were you drinking?" He looked at me and I stared at him, looking in his eyes.

"No, I didn't drink anything." I shook my head slightly.

"Are you sure?" He looked really old standing there. "Did you take any drugs?"

"No, Daddy. I didn't." I offered him a smile, just a little hopeful one. "I might be dumb, but I'm not stupid."

"It isn't funny, Sam," he sighed. "There wasn't any horseback riding, was there?"

"No." I looked down at my feet.

"You lied to me. You might not believe it, but I do pay attention, Sam. I listen to what you tell me, and I trusted you. But this ... Staying out all night? All weekend really." He was frowning. "What about Friday?"

"What about it?" I asked, with a little sinking feeling in my stomach.

"You were staying with Jenny?" He looked at me. "Is that what you were doing?"

"Yeah." I couldn't look at him.

"So if I called her? If I called her mom..."

"Jeeze, Dad! I went to a party last night, okay? I'm sorry." I looked up, feeling my eyes getting moist. "I won't do it again, okay?"

"I'm protecting you, don't get mad at me." His voice had gotten louder, but then he softened. "I just have to know I can trust you. It's just us here, me and you, and I know it isn't fair. It's hard, Sam, hard on both of us."

"You can trust me." I wiped at my eyes quickly. "It was just one party. I'm not gonna do it again."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" my dad asked, and I didn't answer right away. "Sam, the last few months, I've been a little worried. You haven't been ... I don't know, you haven't been yourself. What's going on?"

He'd finished fixing the coffee filter and he turned on the pot, moving to the small table and sitting down.

"Come here, sit down with me," he gestured and I walked over slowly, sitting down and brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"I'm not blind, Sam." He gave me a little smile. "Something's bothering you, just talk to me. Please?"

"I have a boyfriend," I nodded. "He..." I cleared my throat, " ... he's okay, but he wants me to do ... stuff."

"He wants you to have sex?" My dad sat back a little.

"Yeah," I nodded, playing with my purse sitting on the table in front of me.

"Uh ... Do you? I mean ... Have you?"

"Had sex?" I looked up, into his face, just so I could see the look in his eyes, just so I could see if he was jealous, and I hated myself for that. For playing this game with my dad.

"Yeah," he nodded, looking back at me, but all I saw was concern, a little uncertainty. We'd never had a talk about the birds and the bees.

"We did some stuff," I shrugged. "Kissing and, um ... touching, like that."

"I see, but you never..."

"No." I looked down again. "He wants me to."

"Right." My dad nodded slowly. "Maybe I should meet this boy. Have a little man to man with him."

"We're kind of breaking up," I told him, just to get away from that idea.

"Ah, okay." Daddy was kind of lost, and so was I really. "You're only fifteen, Sam. That's pretty young for a boyfriend. Maybe you should just wait, okay? Next year you'll be a little older and..."

"I know," I nodded. "I ... That's what I told him, that maybe when I was older we could..."

"Heh!" Daddy snorted a little. "No, that's not what I mean. I think even sixteen is a little young for that. I meant that when you're older, a little more mature, then having a boyfriend is..."

"I am mature, Dad." I felt a little prick in my ego. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"I know that. I know," he said quickly. "You're very mature. You take care of me, the house. You're amazing sometimes, but Sam, there's other things in life, like ... sex, for example that you can only understand over time and being fifteen just isn't old enough to figure it all out."

"Love too, right?" I sighed.

"Love too," Daddy nodded. "Especially love. I'm forty years old and I haven't figured it out." He smiled and I smiled with him. "I just don't want to see you getting hurt. I love you, Sam. And I need you too much, right?"

"You do need me," I nodded, giggling just a little bit. He reached across, patting my hand. "I'm sorry I lied, Daddy."

"I'm sorry too. I know you had to grow up fast, Princess. But you can slow down now, okay? That's all I'm saying. You can be just fifteen, it's alright. Have fun with your friends, but no more parties. No more boyfriends, not for awhile, alright?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

"Promise?"

"Yeah." I got up so I could give him a hug, smiling on the outside and so confused on the inside, I thought I was dying. But I couldn't show it.

He hugged me back and I didn't want to let go. I wanted to hold him forever. I wanted to tell him everything, the truth, all of it. I wanted to tell him what I was doing, what I'd done to myself and my friends. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him. My real feelings, inside. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for lying to him and show him my money and the bracelet and ask him to make it all go away. Fix it so it would be better. He could do that. He was my Daddy, he could fix anything. He could fix me, I thought, if only I could tell him I was broken.

But I couldn't.

"So, uh ... I guess I should ground you or something," Daddy said as I finally let him go.

"Ground me?" I almost laughed, but he looked kind of serious. I'd never been grounded in my life.

"Well, staying out all night, sneaking in..." He held up his hands. "Don't you think that deserves something?"

"Uh..." I licked my lips, looking down guiltily. "Yeah, I guess so."

"What do you think would be fair?" he asked, either because he really didn't know, or else he was trying to teach me a lesson, and I wasn't sure which. I suspected he didn't really want to punish me though, but he didn't want to let me off easy either.

"Me?" I looked up at him again and Daddy was nodding. "Um ... you could ... spank me?" I said, and I hadn't meant to say that, but it was the first thing that came into my mind.

"Spank you?" He chuckled, just a little. "You're fifteen, Sam."

"Well, yeah..." I licked my lips. "But I don't want to be grounded, Dad. Please?"

"I'm not going to spank you," he said with a smile.

"Why not? You asked me what I think is fair," I said. "That's fair. A hard one too." And I wasn't asking for a spanking to be punished fairly, I wanted it badly.

"A spanking is fair, huh? Some people think a spanking is child abuse."

"I'm not a child." I smiled at him.

"No, you're not," he agreed. "But..."

"And I won't tell anyone you spanked me, believe me, Daddy!" I told him seriously. "That would be the last thing I'd want anyone to know."

I waited while my dad thought it over; not knowing what was going through his mind. It was a ridiculous suggestion probably, asking him to spank me, his fifteen year old daughter. He hadn't spanked me since I was a toddler, and even then it probably wasn't much of a spanking. More like a swat on my diaper padded butt. My dad was anything but abusive, in any way you want to define it. But he was thinking about it, and that meant something, I just didn't know what. I'd wanted him to do it ever since that customer of mine had spanked me a month before. I fantasized about it sometimes, when I took my bath, in bed at night...

"I guess fair is fair," Daddy finally said. He was up, getting himself a cup of coffee as it had finally finished brewing.

"Okay," I nodded solemnly, trying not to show any emotion, but I felt elated inside.

"I'll spank you this time, but next time..."

"There won't be a next time," I promised.

" ... I'll ground you, understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," I nodded, standing back up and unbuttoning my pants.

"So, um..." He looked at me, staring for a second while I kicked off my shoes and pushed my hip huggers down my pale thighs. "What are you doing?"

"You can't spank me with my pants on." I looked at him.

"Oh." He blinked at that and I guessed we had very different ideas on the subject of spankings and how to do it.

I stood there in my panties, those same ones with the teddy bear over my sex and folded my pants, setting them on top of my purse. My t-shirt was a boy's Hanes t-shirt, red with a pocket over my left breast. It was a small one and little short on me, just covering my belly button, barely, so I was showing off my tummy and waist above my panties. I put my hands behind my back; sort of crossing my right foot behind my left, twisting a little with my hips and watching my dad get a good look at me. My nipples were hard as stones, poking through my t-shirt, especially the right one, since there wasn't any pocket to hide it.

My heart was pumping hard and I felt that familiar flush of excitement wash over me, so I gave a tiny shiver, little goosebumps appearing on my arms. I was going to get off, just being looked at by my dad and I couldn't help but look down his body, to where his cock was waiting for me, under his bathrobe, inside his pajamas. I wondered if he got hard seeing me this way.

He was my dad, but he was a man too and he was alone, with no wife to comfort him. He had to be interested, it was natural. He had to want me as much as I wanted him, even the taboo of incest couldn't overcome human nature, could it? Not when a girl, a young woman as attractive as I was, made herself available and even vulnerable to him. He wanted to protect me and love me and be my father ... but the father part, did that really matter? He could protect me in his arms, in his bed and I was offering myself. He had to know it.

"Do you want to sit down?" I asked him, my voice quailing slightly. "Or should I just ... bend over?"

"I..." My dad swallowed and rubbed his temple, staring at me.

"We can do it upstairs if you want." I suggested, feeling bolder and sensing that I had some control now.

He was a man, I told myself, a guy like all my other daddies and I knew how to take care of him. I'd always been smart and being an escort for lonely, middle-aged men had taught me a lot ... even more than I realized, probably.

"In my bedroom, Daddy?"

I licked my lips, thrusting my sex out, just slightly as I arched my back. My panties were tight, pulled across my sex and I knew he could see the faint outline of my cleft vulva, the plump folds down there, getting moist as my pussy trembled inside. I was ready, I wanted to have sex, my body was screaming for it. I was pumping pheromones out of my pores, trying to attract him, to make my Daddy realize that I was ready for mating. He could take me, plant his seed inside me. We'd reproduce, I thought, stripping all the emotions away, down to the bare biological bones. I wanted him to think that way, to forget all the other stuff, the conflicting emotions. I wanted him to need me. To need to fuck me more than he needed to protect me.