Daughter in Need

I stepped out of the shower and toweled myself dry mechanically. The thoughts tumbled around and around in my head and once I pulled on some sweats and my favorite hoodie, I took to journaling them to work through. I then wrote out a schedule for Alyssa's chores tomorrow and Sunday. I wrote out a generic plan for the next few months.

To appeal her dismissal, she needed to take some classes at the local community college - the spring semester started in 3 months which would be enough time to get her in the right mindset. She would also be working at least 20 hours a week. Alyssa was too old to be living home rent free long term but I didn't want her worrying about money. She was sick and that would only hurt her emotional well being. She could pay rent in chores. But then there was her punishment for lying and neglecting her studies. I'd already decided that was going to be chores rather than her phone turned off. It was adding up to allot of chores.

She needed As or Bs at the very least in 3 community college classes to get her appeal. One or two classes in both the Spring and Summer term would be fine. Her scholarship money would still be frozen until she did well once she came back but there was no helping that. Since she clearly couldn't manage her own time, I would need to micromanage her study sessions in a way I hadn't done since her Junior year of highschool. I also needed to make sure she got to therapy twice a week. Set aside some time for Becky and her to have girls day regularly. I looked the list over. I'd need to think of some kind of incentive for performing well on this massive list of tasks.

I thought about her listless behavior this past week. I decided I'd see how next week went when she started her job again. But if she was going to lie in bed all day without even showering...I drew up a new schedule for weekdays including times for showering and gym. I thought about her avoidance of friends and put in social time. I almost penned in times for dates before I stopped. Not only was that personal and not my business, I'd rather it didn't happen at all. I'd never met Sean, but I knew he was bad news. I stared at the schedule that looked more like a list you'd give a full time maid. My eyes drifted to the blocks labeled Gym. Or a trophy wife. I shook my head and put it aside. If Alyssa was functioning just fine on her own she wouldn't need it. It would just be insurance for if she was stuck and wallowing.

Satisfied, I padded downstairs to put something dumb and full of action on TV. I settled in to watch and wait for my wayward girl. I'd go over the weekend schedule with her tomorrow morning but I wanted to at the very least talk to her about what happened between us before she went to bed. I would assure her that I still loved her, no matter what, but that I wasn't about to play games with her and she shouldn't even be trying on me. That wasn't too harsh, right?

No, no if anything it was too soft. I needed to set clear boundaries the way I had always done. No, you can't call me daddy. Yes, I recognize when you're flirting with me and that isn't going to reduce your chores any. Eventually the violence on the TV pulled me away from my musings.

I got up at a quarter to 12 and fixed myself another drink. The coming conversation would be difficult enough stone cold sober and the previous two had long since burned off. I flipped on a few more lights in the house as I waited. No parent should be this nervous about talking to their kid. Alyssa is the one who should be nervous. After-all, she was still in trouble. And had behaved inappropriately. I looked at the clock. I had done nothing wrong, the erection was involuntary, and she'd pulled away before she could have felt it. But with the way she looked at me she must have known something was different.

Twelve o'clock rolled by. At ten after I texted her. At 12:30 I called. And called again. And again. By 1:30 I was less furious and more worried. She had looked me in the eye and promised to be home. That had been genuine. At 2:00 I texted her that I was calling the Police if I didn't hear back from her. Sure enough I got a text 20 minutes later that she was fine and on her way home. I was back to fuming.

When the Honda pulled up I stormed out the door to give her and the boyfriend an earful. Alyssa stumbled out of the passenger door, clearly drunk and looking a mess. I made sure she hadn't left her purse and ordered her inside before walking around to the drivers side. The kid had the gall to smirk at me as he lowered the window.

"Sorry we're a bit late, Ally's not used to remembering a curfew."

I glared at his smug face. I wanted to punch him.

"And I'm sure it was all her decision to stay out and you had nothing to do with it." I could snark like a teenager too, when I wanted to.

"Geez old man, Ally said you were chill. Loosen up, she's an adult."

I couldn't believe this kid. 'Old man?' Had Alyssa told him about calling me that when she was 14? Either way, what a little shit.

"If you want me to make things difficult, I can absolutely do that."

The punk looked me up and down and I wished I had put on something more formal than sweats, and that my beat up hoodie didn't disguise my physique quite so well. He smirked at me. "Chill dude, I brought her back, didn't I?"

"Yeah, well while she's living under my roof, she gets back at a decent hour or she can just not see you next time."

"Dude, don't get all big with me about your house, Allie is going to move back in with me soon enough anyway. You're just making it sooner."

"Not if I have anything to say about it, she won't."

"Please, she doesn't have to listen to you. The Bitch can't say no to me. She knows who her real daddy is. Comprende?"

With that, the little shit rolled the window up and peeled out of the drive before I could deck him. That little shithead! I couldn't believe it! Not only did he call my daughter a Bitch to my face, he had spoken to me in Spanish! This punkass little white boy!

I stormed back inside, and just managed not to slam the door. I could only hope the neighbors had been fast asleep. The nerve of that fucking dick-weed! It was true that I almost never pulled the overprotective father routine, but that was mostly because I never needed to. I wasn't very tall (5'10) but I had wide shoulders and weighed 210 pounds of solid muscle. I usually dressed like an executive (which I was well on my way to being). None of Alyssa's previous boyfriends had given me shit. For a racist, fucking college dropout white boy to yell Spanish at me like he was better than me...

I let out a breath. Alyssa was in the bathroom with the sink running. She emerged with a freshly scrubbed face, the traces of running mascara gone. She looked at me and swayed slightly, then made for the stairs.

"Oh no you don't, young lady. You are three hours past when you said you'd be home."

"I'm sooo sorry dad, told Sean to take me back hours ago but..." She trailed off and waved her hand ambigously.

"But what? You should have insisted! And he should have listened! He was a little jackass to me just now."

"I'm like so sorry, dad"

She looked and sounded contrite and miserable - it took the wind out of my sails a little. I poured us both a glass of water (I had gotten a tad buzzed myself while waiting for her) and made her drink it. I guided her into the living room (she was still wobbling on her wedges) and pushed her gently towards the love seat. "Sit down."

I spun the armchair around to face her across the coffee table. I should send her to bed with an ibuprofen, but by god I was angry and this was the perfect time to pump her for information.

"Where were you drinking?"

"At a motel."

"And you couldn't call because?"

"I meant to, I really did. I told him what time we had to be back. He said he'd set an alarm. He took my phone. Then...I lost track of time. I'm sorry."

"He mentioned you were living with him."

She stared at me, eyes wide.

"Is that true?" I knew it was but part of me wanted to see if she was going to lie about it.

"Yeah." The house was silent around us.

"For how long have you been living with him?"

She tucked her hair behind her ears (which were scarlet).

"Since last year."

"And that off campus housing I've been paying for all semester?"

She hung her head. "My housemates sublett my room."

"And did you use that money to pay him rent?"

"Yeah."

"How much?"

Her voice was very small. "500 dollars a month."

"And what kind of place does he have?"

"He's got a house".

"All by himself?"

"No, there's three other roommates".

"How many bedrooms?"

"Four"

"So you're telling me you pay a guy 500 dollars to share a room with him, is that right?"

Alyssa twirled her hair nervously. I noticed what looked to be dried semen on her previously glossy black locks and my anger increased. "I guess, yeah."

"And how much did he pay to stay there?"

"I dunno."

"Guess."

"Um like a few hundred maybe? I dunno."

I stared at my idiot, naive, drunk, not so little girl. "So you don't know how much rent and utilities was for this house."

"Not really, I guess."

"Was it a nice house?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, kinda."

Which meant it was probably a dump.

I waited for her to meet my eyes again. "Let me tell you what I think, Alyssa...I think, that a four bedroom house in your university town could not possibly cost 4 people more than 500 dollars each. Even if you kept the heat high enough to do hot yoga, there's no way they were paying that much."

She was silent.

"Which means you were paying the full share of your boyfriend's rent, weren't you?"

She was silent.

"You wanna know what he told me?"

She shook her head.

"He said that you were moving back in with him. That you wouldn't be able to say no. Are you planning on moving back in with him?"

She kept her eyes on the table. I slammed it with my open palm and she jumped.

"Answer me, Alyssa."

I could tell she was trying very hard not to cry. "I don't know."

"Well let me tell you, that is not about to happen. And if it does, I will charge you back rent for all of my money you gave over the last year to Sean." My tongue dripped venom on his name.

"He called you a Bitch, Alyssa. Right in front of me".

She waved her hand drunkenly. "He didn't mean it dad. It totally doesn't mean the same thing anymore. It can also be like a...like a pet name".

"Your boyfriend's pet name for you is Bitch?" I asked, incredulously.

Alyssa blushed even harder if that was possible. "Yeah, sometimes".

"Sometimes."

She nodded. I stared.

"And the other times?"

"What?"

"If he calls you Bitch sometimes, what does he call you the rest of the time? Sweet Pea?"

I'm not sure exactly why I asked. I don't know what I was expecting. Certainly not the answer I got.

"Slut". Her voice was reed thin.

"You're joking".

She was crying now, a complete fucking breakdown, breathing hard with her collar and throat a brilliant red that showed her bruise colored hickeys in stark relief.

"You let him call you slut and bitch regularly? As in, outside of sex?" I was appalled. Not so much at the words; I certainly had called women worse in the bedroom. But this was starting to sound like a textbook case of abuse. How did my strong, experienced daughter (who had been wrapping boys around her finger since she was in middle school) end up in this situation?

She nodded, some combination of tears and snot dripped off her nose onto the coffee table.

"Why?"

"I guess I like it."

"You like him treating you like shit?"

She refused to look at me but nodded again.

"Well regardless of how he makes you feel, he is using you. That stops now."

"Maybe I want to be used." She still wasn't looking at me.

"I don't care, no one is taking advantage of you. I won't allow it." I tactfully didn't mention that it was my money, and therefore Sean was using me as well.

She made an abortive smile and continued to cry. My poor little girl. I rose up and stepped around the coffee table, sitting beside her and pulling her head into my shoulder.

"If he cares so little for you that he will take your money, he doesn't deserve you. Does he even have a job?"

"He's in a band. They do shows at a bunch of bars."

I rocked her a bit. What a fucking cliche. This was a mess.

"I don't want you seeing him again. I understand that you have feelings for him but you see how he's toxic right?"

She mumbled something into my shoulder.

"What was that?"

"I dunno if I can help myself, dad. He's right, I can never say no to him."

"Then you are going to block his number. If he shows up here he will not be seeing you without me present. No more date nights. If I have to, I'll get a restraining order on him."

She sniffled.

"Look at me, Mija"

She looked at me. Her face was a blotchy mess. My heart swelled with love.

"It is over with him. Tell him, and block the number. Entiende?"

I had never dictated Alyssa's boyfriends before but she knew when the Spanish came out I was dead serious.

"Entiendo."

"Bien." I hopped up and refilled her water glass.

"Drink."

She downed the glass and tottered over to the bathroom. I scrubbed my hands over my face as the toilet flushed. She emerged and yawned wide.

"Can I go to bed now, daddy?"

We both froze and her hand flew to her mouth in horror.

"Oh my god, I didn't mean to say that again. Or I did but not then. I mean I wanted to say it for a while now, but I didn't mean it like that when I said it earlier. Oh my god, kill me now."

I couldn't help it, I laughed as she covered her face. In the midst of this whole thing with Sean and missing curfews, I had forgotten about wanting to talk to her about calling me that earlier. It seemed like less of a big deal after so many disturbing revelations about my daughter.

"Please don't laugh at me."

I controlled myself.

"Yes you should go to bed now. We'll talk more tomorrow."

She took one step on the stairs and would have fallen backwards if I hadn't caught her.

"Jesus, Alyssa, why haven't you taken those things off yet?"

She took another step, wobbled even with my hand steadying her and gave it up. She gracelessly turned and sat on the stairs. Extended her leg towards me.

"I can't. Can you help me?"

I sighed and squatted, taking her foot in my hands. I worked the strap loose, and immediately understood why she would have trouble undoing it drunk. I slipped the one off with some difficulty and Alyssa extended her other foot.

"How tall are these things anyway?"

"5 inches."

"Jesus."

She giggled at me. She must have just left them on her entire date. I had a sudden mental picture of her lying on a motel bed, legs spread wide with her knee socks pulled up to mid thigh and heels still on. Fuck! I banished the thought and guiltily looked up at her.

She had her elbows on the step behind her and was leaning back, biting her lower lip. Her eyes were wide and feverish and trained on me. It was an extremely compromising position and Alyssa seemed completely uncaring that she was giving me a perfect view up her skirt. Her socks were black with three white stripes where they kissed the bottoms of her firm thighs. My eyes were drawn like a magnet to the junction of her legs. Her thong panties were white. They were visibly soaked.

I swallowed and slipped her other shoe off. She wiggled her toes in my hand but made no other move. Her eyes devoured me as much as mine devoured her. I slowly stood, and she lifted her arms up, begging for a lift. I reluctantly pulled her to her feet and she leaned into me, standing two steps higher and draping her arms on my wide shoulders.

"Alyssa, Mija, we can't be doing this..."

She leaned forward into me and I had to brace myself to keep from stepping back.

"I know, dad. I know. But, like, just this once, can you carry me to bed?"

I tried to lean back to search her eyes with mine, but any more and she would have fallen forward. She put her lips to my ear.

"Please, daddy?"

I shivered and tingles ran down my spine. There was that word again, hanging between us. I knew right then I shouldn't humor her. I knew we'd already crossed several lines tonight and any more could irrevocably damage the relationship with the person I cared most about. But I also heard in her voice a girl's plea for her father's affection. No doubt my girl was feeling confused and horny and putting those feelings on the wrong person, but at the end of the day she was coming from a deep place of insecurity and love. I couldn't find it within me to hurt her.

Or that was just the excuse I used and I let my dick make the decision. Either way, without overthinking it anymore I gave in to my instincts. My hands rose up along those ridiculous socks until I could feel the silky bottoms of her thighs and I lifted her in one smooth move. Alyssa wrapped her arms and legs around me like a spider and hummed happily as I took the steps steadily one at a time.

On the landing I hitched her a little higher against me, and I heard her breath catch. I linked my hands together underneath her to keep myself from grabbing her ass. Her breath was tickling my ear and she squirmed against me. She smelled like tequila and sex. I could feel the heat and wetness of her pussy pressing into my stomach. My baby girl was in heat. My dick throbbed in my boxer briefs.

When I got to her bed I pulled free the covers and carefully set her down. She pulled me into her and I resisted, propping myself up with a hand against her headboard. Her legs slid down from around my waist but she kept them open, an invitation. Her eyes held mine, liquid brown in the dark of her room, light from the hallway casting her in shadow.

"Goodnight, Alyssa."

I pulled the covers up over her. She didn't make it easy, keeping her arms wrapped around my neck the entire time, unwilling to let go. I didn't mind, her fingers swirled up the back of my scalp; a soft and sweet collar, binding me to her. I tucked the covers into her sides, the way I did when she was young. She wiggled happily, still searching my eyes for something.

"We've got a big day tomorrow. Or rather, you do. You're still in big trouble, alley girl. So get some sleep. Goodnight."

She didn't let me go and as I waited my arm was starting to tremble with the effort of holding myself and half of her up. I switched my other hand to her headboard.

"I'm sorry, daddy."

She whined in a little girl voice.

Fuck! Women all have different sex voices. Allot aren't actually higher pitched. My sexiest girlfriend by far had sounded low and hoarse when she talked dirty. I couldn't stand how fake sounding most 'baby talk' was. A few partners I'd been with put it on because they thought it was what I'd like. It wasn't. But some women just went there completely naturally. When you took them into an intensely sexual state, they couldn't help their voice going there. I'd call it naturally submissive, and it was an incredible turn on.

Alyssa was a natural submissive. She was obviously putting on the voice here, but the desire for approval in it sounded too real, almost involuntary. It was definitely her genuine sex voice. My erection, which had just started to subside, returned with a vengeance. I gathered my resolve.

"It's just dad, Alyssa. And you're not getting out of anything by batting your eyes at me. You can show your sorry by not lying to me like that again. And working hard starting after breakfast tomorrow. Which is in four hours. So go to sleep."

"I know. I'll work hard. Thank you for carrying me up." I couldn't tell if she was deliberately trying to be manipulative, or just drunk. Her face was anxious and grateful all at once. A large part of me wanted nothing more than to tell her I'd do anything for her and kiss the worry lines off her brow. Which was, of course, exactly what she wanted.