Daddy’s Will Be Done
by
Saucy Sally
Published by Saucy Sally at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Saucy Sally
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My earliest memory of my daddy is of him rescuing me from the scariest spider I ever saw. The hairy thing swung, just inches from my head, suspended in midair. Daddy was so brave. From my screams, I’m sure he thought I was dying, but he didn’t get mad when he came into my room. He grabbed the spider with his bare hand, saving me just in time. Then, he terrified me by letting the spider crawl all over his hand to show me the spider wouldn’t hurt me. To this day, I swear he has some kind of magical power over spiders, because I know that spider wanted to eat me.
Daddy has been my hero for as long as I can remember. He’s always been better than anyone else’s dad, even my friends love him. Part of the reason for that is because he’s so handsome. In high school, all of my friends flirted with him all the time. The only time they didn’t was at my mom’s funeral, but I know those nasty bitches were just biding their time. They weren’t thinking about me, or how broken Daddy was. They were thinking, “Julie’s dad is single now!” I used to have sick friends.
My little sister has the same problem, I know. I overheard her friends talk about him lots of times. I asked Daddy about it one time.
“Doesn’t it bother you when these young girls flirt with you and try to get you to look down their shirts and stuff?”
“No. They’re just practicing on me, learning how to flirt and get guys interested in them,” he explained. “And if they want me to look down their shirts, I’m happy to oblige,” he winked at me. “But you’ll always be my main girl, Punkin.”
That’s what Daddy called me. I was never Julie, always Punkin. Whenever I got jealous of my little sister, I reminded myself that he didn’t have a pet name for her. Just me. But Jane was Daddy’s ‘real’ daughter. He always told me I was his real daughter too, but I wasn’t. He married my mom when I was two and adopted me right away. “I’m your real dad, not your step dad,” he reminded me whenever I got sad about it.
Mom died when I was fifteen and Jane was twelve. I had to be the lady of the house after that. I always made sure to have supper on the table, clean clothes for all of us, got my sister to her volleyball practice and doctor appointments. Daddy wanted to hire a live in maid to take care of us, but I didn’t want some strange woman coming in and taking my mom’s place. It didn’t bother me that I didn’t get to hang out with my friends. I wanted to keep Daddy happy. I know he was lonely without mom. Whenever he had a sad day, I’d crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and cuddle up to him as close as I could.
And, I wanted him to love me. He said he did, but a couple of years after my mom died, he started looking at me funny. I kind of got the feeling he resented having to take care of me and support me when I wasn’t even his real daughter, I didn’t feel like his little girl anymore. One day, out of nowhere, he called me Julie— no more Punkin! I cried myself to sleep that night, and decided to be the best daughter any man ever had.
The next morning, my eyes were all puffy as I made breakfast for Daddy and my sister, so I made sure I kept my back to them as much as possible. After stuffing her face, Jane jumped up from the table, announced that she was late for work, and ran out the door. Daddy came and stood behind me at the sink. My hands were all sudsy, but he made me turn around.
“Julie, what’s wrong?”
I wouldn’t look up at him. If I looked into his eyes and saw that weird look that I didn’t want to get used to, I knew I’d start crying. To keep his focus lower, I dried my hands on my pants. “There’s nothing wrong,” I said, looking up to give him a quick smile before lowering my eyes again.
“You look like your sick, or you haven’t slept.”
Dang. And after I tried so hard not to let him see me. “I’m fine,” I said, but my voice had a bit of a whimper to it.
Daddy wrapped me in his arms, and that was all it took. My tears rushed out of my eyes, like they had someplace to be and couldn’t get there quick enough. I lost it, sniffling, sobbing, my body heaving in his arms. “You — don’t — love — me —anymore!” I stuttered between sobs.
“Julie! Why would you think that?” The front of his tee shirt was soaked from my tears. He pulled me closer.
It took a few minutes before I could spit out anything other than blubbering. “You keep,” I sniffed a few times, “calling me Julie.” New floodgates opened from my eyes.
“Well of course I do, it’s your name.”
“You always call me Punkin!”
“Honey,” he cooed at me, “you’re an adult now. You’re a little old to be Punkin. I thought you’d like being treated like a lady instead of a little girl.”
“But I’m your little girl, aren’t I?” As I said it, I didn’t feel much like a little girl. My dad had a boner, and it was pressing against my stomach, and growing! He tried to back away, but I wasn’t ready for him to let me go. I needed to know he still loved me, so I pulled him close again.
He sighed and kissed me on the top of my head. “Of course you’re my little girl. You’ll always be my little girl.”
“I just wish I was your real daughter, like Jane.” His hard on was less noticeable now.
“Julie, you are my real daughter.”
“I wish we were blood related,” I backed away, in desperate need of a tissue. The box sat on the counter, just down from the sink. I grabbed a handful. When I looked back at Daddy, he was looking at me just like he used to, and I had to smile. That was all I wanted from him— for things to be like they used to.
“You know what I think you need?” he said, sitting at the table and pulling me into his lap.
I shook my head.
“I think you need to go out with your friends and have some fun. Find a nice boy and go out on a date. Get into some trouble —nothing too serious— but stop spending all your time taking care of your sister and me.” I loved the warmth of his embrace. It felt like pure love. “You’ll be leaving for college in the fall, and you need to have some fun before you have to buckle down and get serious with your studies again.”
His lips brushed my forehead and I smiled. “I don’t want to go out with friends, or date any boys. I want to stay right here and take care of you!”
I felt the heave of his large frame as he took a deep breath. He held me away from him so he could look me in the eye. “Honey, here’s the thing: you have become a very beautiful young woman, and you need to get some experience with men while I can still help you and protect you. I don’t like the idea of sending you off to college without any, um skills, when it comes to dealing with young men. I’m afraid those boys will take advantage of you, and you’ll have no one to guide you.”
The thought of leaving Daddy and Jane to go to school so far away made me sad again, and I fell back against him. “I might just decide to stay here and go to school. That way you can still protect me.”
“You’re already registered at Northern, and you’ll get a much better education there than you would here. Jane and I will be just fine without you for a bit.”
That did it. My heart broke with those words. He and Jane, just fine without me, but I held it together. The tears stayed behind my eyeballs and I stood up. “I suppose you’re right.” That funny look of his was back as he looked me up and down. At least now I knew where I really stood with him. I went back to the dishes and Daddy went outside to weed-whack.
I spent the next few days trying to come up with a plan, something that would bring us closer, something that make him feel the same way about me again. When Daddy went to the golf course later that day, I crept into his office and found the drawer where he kept all his important papers. Last Will and Testament, my sought after envelope read. It wasn’t sealed, the flap was just folded inside the envelope.
Carefully I pulled the document from its heavy-duty protection. I perused the papers until I found the evidence I needed. There I was— a contingent beneficiary! Jane was a primary beneficiary and I was a contingent! Proof that he didn’t think of me as his real daughter. I folded the papers back in order and carefully put everything back in its place. It was time to put operation Blood Relation into motion.
It wasn’t going to be easy to get Daddy to go along with it, so I’d need to use special tactics to convince him. The next few days, I adjusted my attire. Day one, I wore a very short skirt with a flimsy blouse and no bra. Daddy told me to go to my room and change.
“I’m an adult now, you said it yourself. If I want to attract a boyfriend, I need to start dressing sexier.” His hard on did not escape my notice, or his. He picked up the newspaper and opened it as a shield.
“You don’t need to dress like a hooker to attract boys.”
“Jane wore something just like this the other day, and you didn’t say anything to her about it.”
“She had a tank top on under her shirt. And a bra!”
“That’s only because she’s flat and needs a push-up bra to make her look like she has boobs.”
“You’re right; she’s not as blessed as you are. Now go put on a bra!”
I did. The outfit already got the response I wanted, so the even with the bra, I know the vision of my nipples through the thin white blouse stayed with him. Day two, I chose a tight fitting sundress, one that made it difficult to wear a bra without looking dumb. This time, when Daddy complained from his armchair, I sat on his lap. I put my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The bodice of my dress gaped open, and I saw him peeking. Even better was his boner, poking me in the ass.
“Julie, honey,” he said, a light coat of perspiration showing on his forehead, “if you keep dressing like this, you’re going to attract the wrong kind of boys.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the only boys who will be after you are the ones that just want to take advantage of you.”
“You mean, they’ll want to get in my pants?”
Poor Daddy’s face flushed and he tried not to look down at my breasts. “That’s exactly what I mean.” He stole another glance.
“So? I’m old enough. Maybe it’s time I did try to get laid. I’m dying to know what it feels like.”
Daddy almost threw me off his lap, sputtering about how I shouldn’t talk that way, and how sex is between people who love and care about each other, not just something you do with anyone who’s willing. He went up to his room after that, and I heard the shower running. Another success.
Day three I planned to sunbathe. I bought a special suit for the occasion. Once Jane left, I gathered up my towel and suntan lotion, and headed to the backyard. Daddy was busy working on his flowerbeds around the patio. He didn’t notice me at first, but when I scraped the metal chaise lounge across the cobblestones, he finally looked up. My back was to him, on purpose.
“Julie! You’re wearing a thong!”
“I know. Do you like it? All the girls wear them now.” I looked over my shoulder to examine my ass. I knew the suit looked great on me.
“It’s… a little revealing…”
“It’s supposed to be, Daddy. That way you get a better suntan.” He didn’t say anything, just went back to his flowerbed, but I could see he was hard again. I poured some lotion into my palm and started slowly rubbing it into my skin. From the corner of my eye, I saw him watching me, from the corner of his own eye. When I’d coated as much skin as I could reach, I said, “Daddy? Will you do my back?”
He coughed and stuttered a bit. “My hands are all dirty, Julie. You don’t want me getting dirt on your back.”
“Could you rinse them with the hose, please? I don’t want to get sunburn.” I climbed onto the chaise lounge, face down. The spigot squeaked when he turned the water on. He stood over me, drying his hands on his shorts, for longer than he needed to. Finally, he sat on the edge beside me and squirted some lotion into his hands. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Um hum.’ I expected him to swipe his hand around, in a hurry to get the lotion on and get away, but he didn’t. He lifted my hair to the side, and started at the top, working the lotion into my shoulders and neck. His touch was soft, but the pressure of his hands and thumbs made it more of a massage. I heard the bottle squirt and his hands were back on my skin. As he worked under my shoulder blades and arms, he brushed the sides of my squished breasts. I could feel the wetness of my core dampen the meager crotch of my suit.
My mind willed his hands to slide under me and fondle my breasts, but they worked back to the center of my back, down my spine, and over my hips, his fingertips working the moisture into my skin in sensuous circles. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips, the one I suppressed so long for fear he’d stop, but he kept rubbing, stopping only to apply more lotion. Then, he was down the T of my thong. His thumbs slipped beneath it, just barely, making sure no skin was missed. I was in heaven when he didn’t stop, and instead, started working back toward the top. His fingers and thumbs pressed into my muscles like an expert masseur.
“Your mom loved a good back massage. It’s little things like that I miss about her.” Surprisingly, his comment didn’t kill the moment. I was too into my massage to let his mournful remark sour it, but suddenly he rose and smacked my bare ass. “There you go, kiddo. I don’t think any harmful rays will get through that armor.”
“Thanks, Doug.”
“Julie, just because I don’t call you Punkin, doesn’t mean you don’t still have to call me Dad.”
“I know,” I said, stretching my muscles and enjoying the lingering tingle of the massage, “I just wanted to see what it felt like to call you that.”
He chuckled and went back to his flowerbeds, but I know he continued to eye me for the rest of my tanning session. Okay, so day three ended a little tamer than planned, but I still counted it a success. Day five, another day parading around in front of Daddy in the skimpiest outfit I could find, and Jane unwittingly gave me a hand.