Chapter 316: Daddy Daughter Day

You don’t even know that I sense them now, and I’m not going to tell you.

I knew now why Elena decided we needed to take the long walk around the perimeter now. All three sets of triplets were together in the big nursery with the other toddlers and young children. Paula was here too, playing with the children in the play area like a child without any siblings.

When we finally made it to the resort building with the nursery, Elena didn’t get to tell me that my nonuplets were here. April beat her to it and shocked the hell out of Elena.

“Day Id! Day id! Sis! Sis! Momma,” April said excitedly as the pulled on my leg to get me to go with her.

I picked up April and walked into the nursery, which didn’t make the staff happy to see me carrying her. She was supposed to be in the big play area with the other kids. When the woman tried to take her from my arms, she got a string of Nos and crying. April settled down immediately, further shocking the woman.

“She won’t let anyone pick her up who she didn’t raise her arms to or help her get out of her crib. Nobody can calm her down when she starts throwing a fit. You have a gift, but I must ask you to give her back to us. I’m sure her family wouldn’t be too happy with the owner’s daughter’s boyfriend holding their daughter,” she told me with a hint of authority.

With a smile, I told her, “I’m sure my parents are more than happy for me to hold April and my siblings. So far, April will only calm down instantly for me. Always has since she was a baby. We have a bond I can’t explain. She knew I was coming to the nursery and somehow managed to get out to greet me. Not sure how a toddler managed that, but she did.”

“She had help, David,” Paula said as she walked over from where she was playing with the babies. “April started calling for you. I saw you walk in the building on their monitor.”

Paula gave me a hot kiss, which confused the nursery lady even more.

I explained to the woman that I had a lot of girls who were friends and how I hoped they might one day become girlfriends, or maybe even friends with benefits. April interrupted when she pointed to the baby area to start repeating “sis” and then said “momma, no momma” to Paula. I saw Paula’s confused look as she tried to figure out April’s babble. Paula was sure she hadn’t had any children, and her body didn’t show any signs that she had.

I’m not going to say anything on the contrary.

“You have to come to see this, David. I swear there are eight little girls that all look alike except for hair and eye color. They all love your baby brother,” Paula said excitedly.

One of the other nursery workers came over to ask, “I know this may sound insensitive, but for the safety of the children, I have to ask. Is that girl ‘special’?”

How do I answer her?

“Oh, more than you can imagine,” I replied. “Before the car accident, all Paula needed to practice law was to turn eighteen. She already passed the bar exam, in multiple states, years before she could drive, but that made her incredible more than ‘special.’ Pauls pushed a vanload of cancer survivors out of the way of a speeding truck. It broadsided her instead, making her ‘special’ to many. The wreck scrambled her brains and broken nearly every bone in her body. If you look closely, you will see the scars from where the experimental hospital skinned her alive to fix her broken bones, torn muscles, and damaged organs. She was braindead when she arrived, so they had nothing to lose by wiring up her heart and lungs to a computer to keep her brain and body alive. The doctors said she has some of her memories locked away in her head, but mostly she has had to re-learn everything. In some ways, she isn’t mentally older than the children playing with my siblings. In others, she is a seventeen-year-old girl. Things like playing with the little kids may help unlock some of those lost memories.”

I like that look of confusion followed by awe. Too bad that I can’t tell anyone how I rebuild Paula, sometimes one cell at a time, or that the nontuplets were clones of her I created to extract embryonic stem cells for her body to repair itself.

“Do you know why the two sets of triplets and the set of twins keep calling her momma? April keeps saying to them momma, no momma,” she asked next.

I answered her by asking, “Paula’s accident was over a year ago. There is no way she could have carried a baby to term even if she was pregnant before the wreck. It took months to get her body put back together. It is a miracle she is alive. For her to have given birth to twins, triplets, quints, sextuplets, septuplets, or octuplets during her time in the hospital would require the direct intervention of a higher power. I mean, look at her. Do you think her body has been pregnant long enough to have a viable baby, much less being able to give birth?”

I didn’t even lie. Paula had nontuplets, and I was that higher power.

April started calling out “Day id,” in a way that sounded enough to the two workers like April was saying “dad,” as she pointed to the play area.

I went over into the play area, let myself in, and watched April pointed to her eight sisters and called each one ‘sis.’ She did the same for my sister. Her little sisters couldn’t say more than babble “da” repeatedly.

It seems both sets of triplets can feel the link to me now and know I am their father.

They had the multiple-birth sibling link going between them, but it was so weak I didn’t feel anything going over it when I tapped into it. Each set of triplets had a link to their two sisters. It didn’t surprise me in the least that April had a link to each of her sisters. While I was at it, I looked at my siblings. They had a deeply ingrained twin link now and were blocking out April entirely. It was my brother that surprised me. All nine of my girls, April included, had a connection offered up to him that he could let in if he wanted. Right now, he linked to the red-headed triplets, who were playing with him. He didn’t need to reach out to the girls at all.

I decided to see about myself. Damn! I had a link to me from every girl and woman in the room. Out in the rest of the resort, any girl that started puberty linked to me too. The girls outside this room in a buffer zone area are waiting for me to get close enough to them to connect the link. I followed the links to the women working in the nursery and used the place in my head to show me where they tied in their brains.

Wow! That explains a lot.

What I saw reminded me of a video Molly showed me about how drugs and alcohol lower inhibitions in “normal” brains and then how it affected the minds of Autistic people. I hadn’t seen this before, but it appears their links into me sends them signals which make them comfortable around me, slightly stimulates their limbic center, and arouses them the tiniest bit. One of the girls in the nursery next door was Autistic. Somehow, I knew she was non-verbal, had learning disabilities, and required a lot of care. The link into me tapped into parts of her brain that looked to me that they now blocked a lot of the places tied to touch aversion, stimulated her desire to seek me out for comfort, and gave a sense of wellbeing they usually couldn’t normally find.

Elena hadn’t seen all the girls together in the same place before. She and her father were the only ones that get some of the details. I doubt they told them that they were Paula’s. She has seen Paula naked. The scars are impossible to miss. No doctor in the world would find that Paula had a single child. No way could she have birthed nontuplets without any physical changes to her body to show for it. Not even a single stretch mark, and she had plenty before the girls were born.

As if she read my mind, Elena asked, “How is this even possible. Three sets of triplets, each grouped by hair color. Except for April, now, they are all identical except for their hair and eyes.”

“I know the details. It is a secret I can’t give to anyone. If I read you in, so to speak, there are parts you couldn’t believe, and best you don’t know anyway. I see you noticed that they aren’t three sets of triplets. Yes, they are nontuplets. If grouped by eye color with April, you will have three sets of identical triplets, with only differing hair colors.”

“You are right, some things I don’t need to know. Others I wished I didn’t know,” she told me.

I understand that.

While we watched the babies play, I explored more of the links to me from the women around me. The nearest one was wearing a skirt, and when she walked by, I couldn’t miss the smell of her juices. She had spent more time looking at me than she had watched the babies. From how she acted around the other women, I noticed she was shy, quiet, and a bit meek. What I saw on her face and the fire in her eyes, when she looked at me, showed an entirely different person. As she began walking back towards me, I made eye contact right before having the place in my head blocked the link between us. It was like a light switch turning off. She had removed her bra in the bathroom, and possibly her panties. Her nipples went from pushing out against her shirt to completely disappearing. The fire in her eyes extinguished. She kept her eyes locked on me for a few seconds before she blushed in embarrassment. Soon she looked a bit like a scared animal looking for somewhere to hide. It made me feel like a bit of a dick, and it didn’t matter that I knew she wasn’t ready for the sex that her connection to me caused her to crave.

From deep in my memory, I remembered fitting her first bra on her when she was thirteen. She was even meeker back then. I ended up stripping her completely and playing dress-up with her as I got her underwear that she desperately needed. She couldn’t get brave enough to do it herself in front of so many people.

I stood up, put my arm around her shoulders, guided her back into the bathroom, as I whispered, “Come on. I might as well as see how much your body changed from the pale naked zombie I dressed and stripped so many times in a row when you were thirteen.”

She didn’t seem like someone a bit slow, but I had her naked and went looking in her pockets for her underwear when she realized I was the guy from the underwear outlet. Once it clicked in her head, she went into lust overload. All her time fighting little kids to strip them to change diapers, pull-ups, for a bath, and dress for bed was a benefit to her getting me naked. I ended up seated on the bathroom’s couch with her in my lap. She had her hot pussy pushed against my limp dick and legs locked around behind my back. While clumsy, she mashed her lips to mine and shoved her tongue in my mouth. Her hips hadn’t moved a bit when she came, wetly, as she pushed her body tight to mine. I knew she wanted to fuck me because of all the years of playing with herself as she thought about me doing who knows what to her body. I also knew she wasn’t ready to have sex with anyone.

“You do know how to play with yourself, right,” I asked a bit jokingly.

She blushed down to her small tits before saying softly, “I didn’t even know I was playing with myself when I did it the first time in bed the night after you touched my naked body so many times to get the perfect bra and panties. From the first time I saw you help the girl near me, I couldn’t stop thinking about having you touch me as you helped me get underwear. I didn’t know then why it felt like I peed when I sat there waiting. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t move when you were there to help me. I was so scared you would see the wetness between my legs that I kept squeezing my muscles to keep myself pulled closed. I know now that I came four times while you helped me.”

“Seven times,” I told her. “You came seven times. I remember because I had a soft towel that I used to wipe away your juices each time. The rest of the time, I patted you dry before sliding a new pair of panties. You do know your mother watched me like a hawk the whole time but asked if I babysat since I was the only person, including herself, that you let see you naked since you were eight. She couldn’t remember any time when you didn’t try to pull away from someone touching anywhere near your breast or pussy. It amazed her how I dried off between your legs as if nothing had happened at all.”

“I wish she would have told me the babysitter she wanted to get to watch me when my parents went off for a romantic weekend was you,” she said right before she came hard again.

Is this the first time a girl has been naked with me and came twice without us even moving? Again? Already?

She came hard, again, before I even finished my thought. I looked for orgasm energy when I gently rubbed her back and butt. There wasn’t any at all. She just came. Four orgasms later, and she leaned back to have my play with her tits. I could only use one hand at a time because she went limp, for a few seconds, from the increased intensity of her orgasms. The inevitable happened soon after. The girl began grinding her clit against my dick. For the first time since she sat in my lap, she had to work up to getting off like any other girl. I was rock hard when she finally came. Her hand came between us to try to line me up. I moved her to have her sensitive clit pushed against my dick and held her tightly to me.

“You aren’t any more ready to do that with me than when you were thirteen. I mean your body is, and I know you will enjoy every minute of it, even the pain of losing your virginity, but you will hate yourself as soon we finish. Then we have the issue of having unprotected sex when there is a good chance you are probably at the right part of your cycle to get pregnant. Cuddle with me instead. I will get you dressed again after you pee, and I wash away the smell of sex,” I told her.

She gave me a friendly hug before we left the bathroom.

It was purely coincidental that the autistic girl started having a violent screaming meltdown of such intensity that the staff is scared she would hurt one of them. The girl headed off in one direction. I headed toward the screaming.

“We can’t let you go in there. It isn’t safe,” a guard said, standing outside the room where the girl was having the meltdown.

I stood up straight and flexed enough to show I was nearly all muscle.

“Look. I can’t explain it, so you will have to watch and see. I’m quicker than I look, and I am an expert in multiple forms of martial arts, but I won’t need to use any of my training,” I told him. “I’ve never met the girl before, but she will run and jump up onto my arms to cling to me as if her life depends on it. She will be completely calm and maybe even a bit happy.”

“Now this I got to see. Give me a couple of minutes first. I need to get some people to watch to see if you are a snake-oil salesman or miracle worker. I’ve dealt with a lot of violent and dangerous situations with perps hopped up on PCP, drunk, or out of their minds. I never flinched as I dealt with them. She is a tiny little girl, but she scares to shit out of me. I’m keeping people out until she calms down. I don’t know what she threw at me, but it tore my pants and briefs on both sides of my nuts. It shaved the hair off them as the things went past. I spent two summers with a traveling carnival when I was a teenager. Their knife throwers were damn good, kid, but couldn’t throw one knife accurately enough to cut through the small gap between my legs from walking toward them. Twice isn’t possible, at least not until today.”

Damn. This girl doesn’t have any physical problems with her fine-motor skills or vision. I can do that with any number of objects because of what the man-in-the-machine downloaded into my head at some point.

Why am I humming, “The Candy Man?”

Her link to me exponentially strengthened as I moved closer to her. It turns out that I did need my martial arts skills. Two burly women made the mistake of trying to sneak up on her while she watched the door where I entered. She held a partial deck of playing cards in one hand, and a stack of playing card-sized thin pieces of stainless steel from where someone punched them out to make holes for wires or cooling pipes for walk-in-freezers.

Almost too quick for me to see, the girl flicked two of the playing cards at the two women, drawing a bit of blood from where they hit. The women backed up quickly to leave out the door they entered. The girl flicked two of the metal pieces at my balls. I caught them with no effort at all. She looked up, locked her eyes on mine, dropped the deck of playing cards, and jumped up to run towards me. Three quick steps, a jump, and she had her arms locked around my neck and legs around my stomach. I put my arm under her butt.

“Can you speak,” I asked.

Head shake no.

“Read?”

“Use a cell phone?”

Vigorous nod.

“Are you going to let me put you down so you can go use the bathroom before you pee all over both of us?”

She didn’t so much as tear her clothes off as rip them a bit as she fought to get out of whatever tight clothing that they had put on her. Not even bothering to close the door first, the girl dropped on the toilet, started to pee, and then took a monster dump. The smile on her face told me she was glad she didn’t do it in her clothes like she had planned when having her meltdown.

“Look. I don’t know who you are, but here are some clothes that Carrie’s parents sent down when we told them she was having a meltdown. They said we had to wait it out. Carrie is her name. She will eventually tire herself out. Them coming down wouldn’t help a bit to settle her down,” she told me. “It was like you flipped a light switch inside her somewhere. She doesn’t make physical contact with anyone and locks herself in the bathroom when she doesn’t decide to mess her clothes. No one even gets a response from her when we ask her anything.”

I smiled and joked, “Call me the Autistic Whisperer. I can’t explain it.”

Why am I still humming, “The Candy Man?” The lyrics may have been acceptable when they made that Willy Wonka movie in the sixties, but here and now, it seems a bit creepy.

Carrie made a wide arc to stay out of the woman’s reach as Carrie tried to get to me. She quickly snatched her pajamas from my hand and took them off to place them on the bed in the room. From the bathroom, Carrie brought a bar of soap in a washcloth that Carrie put in my hand. Pointing to her, she held her nose and waved her hand to mime that she stunk. Carrie reached out with her other hand to pull me toward a tub/shower combo surrounded by glass walls. Inside she started the water. While we waited on the tub to fill, she pulled at the bottom of my shirt and tried to pull it up. I helped her take it off me. When she hooked her thumbs inside my shorts and boxer-briefs, Carrie looked up at me questioningly. I nodded. Soon I was stepping out of them. Her small hand reached up to poke at my dick before lifting it to inspect it and then let it go. She quickly explored my balls. Curiosity satisfied.

When the tub filled halfway, she turned the water off and pulled my hand toward the bathtub while pointing toward the back. She didn’t need to do more than that to get her point across. We now had an audience. Carrie flipped them a bird and moved into the tub in front of me. Once I washed her, she drained the water, refilled it, and had me rewash her. The fifth time, Carrie got out of the tub, walked out into the room, through the back door that the two burly women had entered, before disappearing for a minute. When she came back, she had a small gift shop bag with cinnamon-apply scented shampoo, body wash, lotion, and a damned Devil Ducky. She barely had a butt, and her chest sported small puffy mounds that she used exaggerated shakes of her chest to make them bounce the tiniest bit.

I started with the shampoo first before washing her body with the body wash everywhere, at her insistence. She used the regular soap to clean my dick and balls before pulling me from the tub. I started to use one of the towels to dry her off, but she pulled away. I watched her squeeze most of the water from her hair and do an excellent job squeegeeing the water off her body before rushing out the back door again. When she returned, she had one of the hairdryers they put in the rooms. She then went to bring back an extension cord, which she plugged into a GFCI out before connecting it to the hairdryer. Carrie used the blow dryer on her hair for a second and then turned the heat down to point her body. She gave me the hairdryer. She took a towel to dry as much of me as she could.

I can at least make it appear that I am using the hairdryer on her body, but I can use the place in my head to evaporate the water from her body without drying out her skin.

She dried the rest of my body but left my dick and balls for last. First, she put my balls on the towel in one hand and gently patted them dry with the other. Carrie wrapped a hand towel around my dick before gently squeezing to dry it.

When she headed to the bed, I went to pull on my shorts, but she took them from me and threw them on the floor. I tried to get beside the bed to rub lotion on her, but she pushed me onto the bed, moved her butt back against my dick, and then leaned forward to lay down on her stomach. She moved her legs and body until her pussy touched my dick, and then squirmed forward a few inches. I couldn’t help my dick flipping down onto her butt when I moved to be able to rub the lotion on her back. After she reached back to see what was touching her there, she ignored it.