Daughter in Need Ch. 02

I can tell you that you are making all the right moves in regards to her anxiety and depression. The schedules have been great for her. Ally tends to go into a downward spiral when she's left alone or directionless. So keep her busy. Make sure to compliment her when she's done a good job. Right now she is feeling very ashamed and unworthy of love. She is desperate for your approval, and will seek it in whatever way she can."

She leveled a piercing look at me again, and my stomach roiled with guilt.

"Continue reassuring her of yourpaternallove. The way you patted her shoulder on the way in was perfect. Keep doing that. Encourage her to reach out to her friends, she's been completely isolated except for Sean-"

My jaw clenched at his name. Dr. Ecklen nodded and continued:

"I agree. The young man did not have Ally's well being in mind. You were right to force the breakup. I believe that Ally will not attempt to contact him, but she is afraid of her own response if he approaches her again. I'd advise you to keep an eye out."

There was no way in hell I'd let that prick within 100 feet of my girl. I'd need to think seriously about getting an actual restraining order. If Sean came around her work or something and convinced her to move back in with him, there was nothing I could legally do about it. If Alyssa consented to it then the police would laugh me out of the station. Just another overprotective father being condescending about his daughter's choice in boyfriends. That I was obviously Latino and Sean wasn't would only make it look worse.

That would be horrible. What could I even do in that scenario? I would have to confront them head on. I was mostly confident Alyssa would return with me if I showed up at her door. Not 100% though. And Sean wouldn't make it easy. While the thought of pounding my fist through his smug face made my blood thrum, an assault charge would be an extremely bad look. Sean was somewhere in his mid-twenties and heavily tattooed, so it wouldn't look like an adult bullying a kid, but I still outweighed him by probably 50 pounds.

I didn't look like a bodybuilder but you couldn't hide that kind of definition in a suit. I'd spent countless hours at the gym cultivating that exact look. In a work meeting it gave me more presence; an edge that had undeniably helped me compete with the hordes of absurdly tall white men who seemed to saturate upper management. In a courtroom however, I would look like a rich asshole clinging to his youth, who should know better. And maybe a racist. It would be a prosecutor's wet dream.

Could I skip all that? Steal Alyssa away in the night or something? Kidnap my own daughter? Was it still kidnapping if she wanted to come with me? My mind devolved in a bizarre series of daydreams. What if Sean took her back? I imagined my daughter caught between us in some weird kidnapping tug of war. Unable or unwilling to say no. Her conflicting emotions and newfound submissive streak leaving her without agency. Like a war-bride torn between tribes in some prehistoric conflict of my ancestors.

My blood was pounding in my ears. Dr. Ecklen was speaking again but my mind was stuck in a twisted fever-dream. My daughter: a prize to be won. Sean: a rival to be vanquished. As if Alyssa was some precious jewel to keep close and protect from thieving hands. To rip out all the hooks he had left in her; erase the undeserved loyalty she gave him. To trample him into the mud right in front of her; prove to her viscerally that he was not worthy of such love. That not only was he callous to her, he was weak. Leeching off her. I was a better protector in every way. She didn't need him.

Silence filled the room and my mind snapped back. Dr. Ecklen looked at the clock apologetically.

"I wish we could continue this but I really am out of time. Try to get Ally to agree to a joint session. I think you both need it. And you should probably talk to someone about yourself."

I willed my raging erection down and told myself to calm down as we hashed out future appointments. She stood up and I mirrored her, still half hard, but mercifully my boxer briefs kept it from showing.

"Thank you so much, Doctor. That was more helpful than I hoped."

We shook hands and she gave me a serious look. My heart was still beating hard and I prayed to god she couldn't read my face and see the weird caveman imaginings I was still thinking about.Fuck. I still needed advice for dealing with all this sexual tension.

"So what should I do about her... flirting with me?"

Even though we were in the privacy of her office my voice still dropped to a near whisper on the word flirting. Saying it aloud drove home how taboo this whole mess was. I almost wished I could take it back, preserve myself from any more of this woman's judgement.

She regarded me steadily, without a hint of derision. "You're a good man, Mr. Rodriguez. And a good father. You need to be her rock, or I should say she needs you to be her rock. I know she's very determined and used to getting what she wants. You need to be strong for her; strong in spite of her. Not enough men tell her no, which might play into why she is so terrified of rejection. The best way to get her over that is to tell her no. Frequently, and without judgement. In time, she will transfer the excess of her affections onto a partner, hopefully a better one than Sean. For now, don't drive her away, but don't let her get away with pushing you either. I'm sorry, but I expect her to keep testing you. You need to shut it down."

She opened the door and we stepped out.

"Ally, I'm sorry my schedule is too packed to see you more often, but your father has agreed to bring you again on Wednesday, so we'll keep it Mondays and Wednesdays for now, okay?"

Alyssa agreed and was silent as we climbed into the car and drove home. I had a lot to think about myself, and I let the radio fill the silence. Latin beats had me tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. Halfway home I noticed Alyssa swaying and mouthing words to the latest pop anthem and I was encouraged to sing along.

My butchery of the song had her laughing and by the time we pulled into the driveway, she was embarrassed for all the right reasons.

"Oh my God, dad, don't ever do that in public."

She scampered inside and went straight to her room. I got started on an easy meal and grinned to myself. Every father lives for embarrassing their kids, particularly daughters. It never failed to bring me joy.

The sounds of that same pop song boomed through the house speakers, and I ducked my head out of the kitchen to see a paint splattered hoodlum bopping along to the beat as she delicately traced the molding with a paintbrush. What a good kid. I hadn't put anything on the schedule after her therapy session.

A half hour later I called her in to wash up and set the table. She washed the paint off her hands and wiggled in time to the beat as I looked on in amusement over my paper. As she set my drink down she plucked the paper out of my hands and set it to the side. She tugged my hands and I reluctantly followed her to my feet, eyebrow quirked. It was a particularly catchy number playing, and I mirrored her steps, grinning in spite of myself.

She pulled me forward and flowed into me and before I knew it, I was leading her in a close Bachata step. Alyssa was a good follow, and I didn't hesitate to twirl her. She laughed, bright and anxiety free. We danced for a few minutes before the song came to an end and I dipped her.

Her oversized hood fell down in the dip and her hair tumbled free. She smiled at me as I pulled her up, eyes sparkling. The universe tilted, and she was no longer a sexless kid in a hoodie; she was a beautiful woman. Was it just her hair being uncovered? Could things really be that simple? Am I just a horny idiot who needs to go get laid?

Yes, yes you are.

"What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

She must have sensed where my eyes lingered, because her hand drifted up and flicked a mass of sinuous tresses over her shoulder in a practiced motion. My eyes tracked the movement like a beagle and she smirked at me.

I dropped my hand from her back as she leaned in, going up on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. She pressed her lips to the stubble on the back of my jaw, right where a solitary drop of sweat had traced it's way down. She turned away from me, wetting her lips as I felt my heart rate pick up.

I sat at the table and took a drink as she started pulling the food out of the oven. What was I thinking? Now was definitely not the time to be dancing with my daughter. Was I sending her mixed messages?

No you idiot, you're just happily letting her seduce you.

We began to eat in silence, earlier exuberance vanished. Alyssa had turned the volume down, but her playlist wasn't what I would call dinner music. It had changed to hip hop laid over the Latin rhythm. The beat screamed sex and I looked up from my plate to find Alyssa watching me. The air fairly crackled between us. Her expression was inscrutable but I had the feeling I could guess what she was thinking about.

I cast around for something to break the tension, but no stupid dad joke came to me. I cleared my throat.

"I know it's really soon, but have you thought about meeting someone new? If you take care of everything on the list this week I'll let you sleep in on Saturday. You could go dancing. You're turning 21 next week. You can hit the club."

She laughed. "I've had a fake ID for years, dad."

"Right" I mumbled. I had known that.

"And no, I'm not interested in dating someone right now."

I let out a sigh, half relieved and half disappointed.

"I just want you to be happy, alley girl."

"I don't need a boy to be happy, dad."

"Good." I grunted, pleased.

"I need a man!"

The bite I had just swallowed went down the wrong pipe. I coughed, beat my chest, and hacked up a lung trying to settle it. Alyssa hacked up a lung from laughing so hard.

I got control of myself and groaned, face-palming. Alyssa's giggles redoubled and she held her stomach, nearly crying.

"Oh my God. Your face! Oh my God. I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself."

I raked my hand through my hair and cleared my throat again, scowling at her.

"Stop dad. Oh my God you're killing me."

My lips twitched upwards against my best efforts as her giggles subsided.

"It wasn't very funny."

"It was, oh your face; it really, really was. You set that up too perfectly for me to resist."

"You're the one who set it up!"

She giggled. "Oops? Sorry, daddy."

She stood up before I could say anything and took her plate to the sink. Then faced away from me and peeled off her painting hoodie. She had a light blue spaghetti strap top on underneath with dark purple bra straps showing. She shook out her hair with both hands and again my eyes were caught by the sensual motion. Her black locks rippled in the warm kitchen light, looking like she stepped straight from the set of a shampoo commercial.How the hell do women do that, anyway?

I wet my suddenly dry throat and finished my dinner. Alyssa bustled around clearing everything and got started on the dishes. I unfolded my paper and started running through how to tell her to stop all the teasing. But most of her actions were perfectly casual. It's not like she suddenly started playing with her hair and dancing to her music today. I was just noticing in a different way now. That wasn't her fault.

I really shouldn't let her call me daddy, though. That was new. Though it hadn't seemed inappropriate just now. More like a joke. Still, Dr. Ecklen had just told me to be strong. I agreed with her insights 100 percent. Ally was definitely testing me just like she said. I needed to put my foot down.

Alyssa set the last pan on the drying rack. She turned towards me and rubbed her belly.

"Ow...you made me laugh so hard it hurts."

I gave her a flat look.

Her sweats were sagging low, and her top bared a wide strip of golden skin. My eyes were drawn to a trio of hearts dangling from her navel piercing.

Didn't those go out of style decades ago?

It was beautifully framed by the lines of her obliques. Alyssa had a body that I would describe as my ideal representation of femininity. That's not an overstatement. If I was a famous sculptor in the Renaissance, I would pick Alyssa to model as the goddess of beauty. I don't think that's just fatherly pride talking. People are attractive in rather unique ways and I find it impossible to really judge beyond 'beautiful', but I have never met anyone who outshone Alyssa's looks.

Her stomach was soft and gently curved with fat but her wide flaring hips kept it looking toned. It had been a few years since she had been competitive about gymnastics and she only looked better with the extra weight. She must be fending off boys with a stick at her university. How she ended up stuck with Sean, I'll never understand.

She drew closer and I closed my eyes at the image of those hearts bouncing against her tummy.

Delectable. Fuck. Stop being a creep.

"Aww I'm sorry Dad." She ran her hand through my hair.

"I know I've been making things hard for you." Her voice betrayed no inkling of it being a double entendre and I didn't crack my eyelids to check.

She circled around me and her fingers dug into my shoulders. I groaned in pleasure. She began kneading my back and I let my head loll forwards.

"Let me make it up to you."

I don't think she was trying to sound sexual but my cock stiffened nonetheless. Her fingers dug deep and I let out an involuntary sound deep in my chest.

"I didn't even ask you how your day at work was."

Damn she had gotten better at this.

"Work was goooood." She'd dug under my shoulder blade and followed the crease up with her thumb.

"What did you get done?"

"Uhhhh." Her thumbs found a knot and smoothed it out, over and over. I couldn't for the life of me recall anything I had done today before speaking with Dr. Ecklen. A flash of her accusing gaze ran through me.

She needs you to be her rock. Stop letting her push you.

I kept my eyes closed and savored the feeling of her hot little hands, still warmed from the dish water. I'd tell her to stop in a minute. Set boundaries. As soon as she was done.Jesus, I needed this.

"Alyssa... you need to stop calling me daddy. It's not really appropriate."

Her hands kept moving, but the puffs of breath that had been tickling my scalp stopped.

Her thumbs rubbed rhythmic circles on my shoulders for another minute. I relaxed and leaned into it.

"You know dad, one of my biggest regrets growing up..."

I grunted.

"One of my biggest regrets was never calling you daddy."

I groaned again in pleasure at her magic thumbs.

"Come on, Alyssa. You can't expect me to believe that. Uhhh right there... But really. This thing. I know it's just you feeling shook right now, alley girl. As soon as you find your feet...uuuh... you're going to look back at yourself and laugh. Especially once you find a new guy."

She was silent for a long moment. Her hands smoothed the contours of my shoulders from neck to triceps.

"Believe it or not. It's the truth. I pushed it away for so long. I've been calling you that inside my head for years. Not all the time. But sometimes. Like when you would drive me back from my soccer tournaments and start the bath for me while I got the mud out of my cleats. Or when I found out from Aunt Becky that you switched jobs, gyms, and schedules just so you could bring me to training every day all because I watched the Olympics and decided I wanted to be a gymnast. When you tucked me into bed after the first night I got drunk in seventh grade I just wanted to tell my daddy I loved him. I had to keep myself from blurting it out all the time."

I frowned. There was nothing really overly wrong with that. I was no psychologist but it still sounded a little off.

"Are you trying to tell me it isn't a sexual thing, Alyssa? Because it sounds to me like it had everything to do with you going through puberty."

"It's not though! It started way before anything like that. Remember how every year at Christmas, you used to pick me up so I could put the angel at the top of the tree? I remember even then almost biting my tongue to cut off the E sound in daddy. Until I stopped letting you pick me up, anyway. God I wish I could go back in time and smack myself."

Well, so long as she understood what a pain she had been. Alyssa had at early adolescence gone through what I affectionately called her Drama Queen Phase (™). It was exactly what it sounded like.

She had been too old for things like getting picked up by that time anyway, but it was pretty jarring to go from a sweetie who perfectly epitomized both 'daddy's girl' and 'tomboy', to a sneering pre-teen who wouldn't even hug me.

"Was it really that important? I wouldn't have thought anything of it then. It probably would have made me happy."

"I know! I was embarrassed, I guess. Even as a girl it was like something only a baby would say. Or a little kid. Even though Iwasa little kid. But even if I didn't say it out loud, I really wanted to deep down. Like I said, not always. But sometimes."

"Okay, I think I understand a little, but do you get why it's inappropriate now? Especially seeing as at least from my perspective, it came out of nowhere?"

"No dad, I get it. I thought a lot about how weird it was once I had been at college a while and realized I really wasn't a child anymore. I guess it suddenly sank in that there was no going back. And as an adult I deeply regretted not calling you daddy when I had the chance and it would've been normal.

But then I thought; why allow it to be weird? Like, why am I letting some half remembered shame dictate what I call you? If I want to call you daddy, I should just call you daddy. It's not weird. It's barely any different than dad. It just speaks better to my feelings sometimes."

Her words stirred something low in my belly. Should I let her have this? It made me uncomfortable, but if she had really wanted to call me something different for years, was it really that big of a deal? Just one extra syllable.

No, I couldn't let her weasel around it with words. Friday night had proved that calling me daddy was anything but innocent.

"And what about Sean? Are you trying to tell me you never called him that? Because even if it wasn't a sexual thing when you were little, you're not little anymore. I don't think it's wrong to call a boyfriend that, but if you do, you shouldn't also use it to refer to your father."

Alyssa's hands stilled. I wondered if she had truly believed I wouldn't notice. She chose her words with care.

"Sean was... So in my feminist support group we've talked a lot about being true to ourselves. And part of being true to yourself is embracing your kinks. The desires that everyone has but keeps secret because like we're all afraid of society's judgement."

Her hands ran up and down my shoulders again and I let her continue. I thought I knew where she was going with this but I was still curious to hear it.

"And repressing those desires isn't healthy. Feeling shame for everything is like just a byproduct of the Judeo-Christian Patriarchy. They use shame to control women's sexuality."

She wasn't wrong. I'm a Catholic, we're born and raised in shame. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing in my mind. I hadn't been to confession in a long, long time, but there is definitely something very powerful in receiving forgiveness. Her reasoning was rather ironic though.

"Are you really telling me that calling your sex partner 'daddy' is somehow going against the patriarchy? Isn't that completely hypocritical?"