Daddy's Little Girl
It was a bad day at work, and a worse drive home. The sedan that had almost hit him at the last light going onto the highway had been white, but his vision had blurred to red when the teenage punk behind the wheel had stuck his middle finger out the open window and hollered at him, as though he and not the young idiot had just nearly killed them both. "He's a kid." He'd thought to stem the anger that had risen inside him, "Just a stupid kid, probably the same age as my Cassie. Just a stupid kid who thinks the rules don't apply to anyone under thirty." He had checked himself there, knowing that his own daughter was no smarter, but like any good father he loved her anyway. The comparison to his daughter calmed him and eased hid frustration back into a reasonable perspective. Hell, the kid was young. He'd been young himself, long ago, and remembered the feeling of thinking anything was possible, that period of finding out who you were and what you were capable of. That last, as often as not, involving physical possibilities and limitations, or the lack thereof. He'd frowned slightly at remembering how many of his friends had wasted years being awkward and unsure, unskilled and inexperienced. At the time that quest for experience and skill had seemed the central drive of life.
He was still pondering how many things in life would be easier if society took the time to teach kids real life lessons instead of useless formulas that'd be gone from their young heads in a few hours anyway as he pulled into the driveway, beside the line of white picketed fence that cast railroad-track like shadows over the low bushes in his yard, red with blossoming roses. His own train of thought built up to a reasonable head of steam as he walked across these tracks, and he was considering writing an email to the principal about possible ways to address the issue as he pushed the key into the lock and entered the house. He turned to the thick upper bar of the hat rack and draped his hat down its length offhandedly as he slid his briefcase into its regular spot. He was assembling the preamble to his argument as he worked off his coat, but it disappeared in a happy blur of emotion as Cassie bounded down the white-carpeted stairs and into his arms. "Welcome home, Daddy!" she said as he twirled her around and embraced her. He noticed a slight twinge in his back as he did so, and realized that, at eighteen years old, Cassie was probably past the point where he could do that every day. She was light for her age, and lithe, but each year that passed not only pushed her closer to full womanhood, it moved him further from his own youth, and his back was just beginning to make its feelings clear on the matter.
Gently he placed her on the reddish Persian rug instead of the colder wooden slats of the bare floor, and smiled broadly at her. "And a grand welcome it is sweetie. What's the occasion?"
Cassie smiled happily but uncertainly, and he remembered for a moment his earlier thoughts about years wasted with uncertainty. A small pang of sadness tinged his smile as he foresaw what his daughter was about to say.
"No occasion, Daddy, I just missed you!" she smiled more broadly for a moment, then demurred. "Although, I WAS having trouble with my homework..."
"Somehow, I thought that might have been the case."
He laughed then, and smiled broadly and, glancing only briefly at his case filled with unfiled reports, he placed a hand on Cassie's shoulder and turned her around, heading her back up the white carpeted staircase to the second floor. As she scampered up the stairs in front of him in the gently twirling pleated skirt of her school uniform, he looked to the left out the window set into the wall halfway up the staircase. The sun outside the window was setting, suffusing the sky with a deep reddish glow. He remembered an old sailors saying he had learned when he had been in the navy. Red sky at night: sailor's delight. Red sky in morning: sailors take warning. The adage was one about storm warnings, and by the time he'd learned it, had been of little practical use thanks to modern technology, but it's quaint attempt to warn and educate had always seemed to him a good way to teach. That subject lead back to the other, and he sighed inwardly at the idea that his daughter, beautiful and wonderful as she was, was going to spend terrible years trying her best to remember digits of pi and square roots of imaginary numbers, instead of learning what she would need to know to be a confident, self-possessed woman someday.
He would never say that his daughter was stupid, though at one point he had accidentally used the word dumb and she had somehow found it endearing, but there was no denying that his daughters talents did not lie in the human-calculator or theoretical astrophysics fields. She could write passably well when the topic touched her interests, but outside of that she exhibited little interest and less aptitude for schoolwork. He was reasonably certain he knew where her talents would be found as she got older. Even now she was a dancer of considerable grace, and that physical presence was only going to grow and burgeon into something he could scarcely wait to see. If she could manage to complete high school first. He shook his head and sighed again, audibly this time. And above and before him Cassie's head bobbed back into view, her strawberry blonde hair breaking up the white of the stairwell walls.
"Daaadddddyyy..." she whined plaintively, rousing him from his thoughts, but also, looking at her open, questioning face, so easily confused, he also felt a resolve hardening inside him to find a way to help her avoid the problems he saw before her.
"Coming baby, not to worry." He said, smiling up at her. In her innocent acceptance of her father's smile as a sign he was okay, her own face split open to match and she disappeared from sight again, apparently satisfied. His smile wavered, as she passed out of view, and his recent resolve was first set upon by all the demons of doubt that plague the making of any decision. He brushed the red skinned doubt demons aside, a white knight empowered by his own immediate belief in his conviction. "I have to." He thought, "It's the only way."
The rest of the stairway, by comparison, presented him with no more moral quandaries or anecdotes for consideration, and so he progressed, without further issue, to his daughter's bedroom. Inside it, he saw Cassie's school books sitting in a haphazard pile on the desk, forgotten in the few seconds it had taken him to ascend the stairs. Cassie stood in front of her closet, the front of which was a full-size mirror, and twirled her skirt back and forth in practice of some dance move or other exuberant gesture he wasn't familiar with. A pile of similar skirts lay on the bed next to her, apparently preparation for a fashion show meant only for her. He smiled, hating to break her attention away from admiring herself, or from doing so himself. He had a beautiful daughter. Beautiful, but dumb, he thought reproachfully to himself, and I know how useless it is for her to spend her time studying so hard for such little gain. If I can change that for her, I will. He walked up behind her, surprised that, given that she was looking into a mirror, she still hadn't noticed him. "Cassie," he said "what subject were you having trouble with?"
Cassie turned, remembering only then that she was here to focus on her studies, and a look of serious consternation crossed her face. "I was studying math, Daddy, and it was harrrrd. But I have questions from other classes, too."
"My poor baby isn't good at math, is she?" he asked, and saw her bite her lip and shake her head. "Or science, or language arts, or us history, or many of the others, is she?"
Cassie thought for a few seconds, her brow furrowing slightly. "No Daddy. I'm good in Gym, though!"
"Yes, I'm sure you are sweetie, but that won't help you if you fail all the others."
"I promise I'll study real hard, Daddy!"
"I'm sure you will, baby. But I'm not so sure that'll help. After all, who's daddy's dumb little girl?"
She smiled infectiously, causing him to grin as well. "I am, Daddy! But I'll try realllly hard, I promise!"
"I know sweetie, I know, but maybe we can find another way to help you. Have you tried emptying your mind? Changing your routine?"
Cassie considered. "Uhm, my mind's usually pretty empty, all my teachers say so, Daddy. What does the other thing mean?"
"Well, let me put it to you this way, Cassie. What are you wearing now?"
Cassie looks down, interest in the conversation flashing in her eyes as the topic of clothes was introduced. "My school uniform Daddy! I like the way the skirt spins!"
He laughed, but then continued. "So you're wearing what you wear at school. How do you feel when you are at school, trying to learn?"
Cassie had clearly lost where her Daddy had been going as soon as the topic left clothes. "Confused, I guess, Daddy. A lot."
"Then what if we tried changing outfits so you didn't feel like you were at school? Do you have anything that you might feel more relaxed in?"
"Oh, sure!" She said excitedly, and crossing to the pile of clothes began to pull out skirts and shorts and tees and showing him how they looked together. His initial hopes for the approach quickly waned as she clearly forgot entirely about learning when clothes were involved. So perhaps, he though, we can involve less of them. A determination flashed through him and in seconds he felt the idea both growing in his mind and having similar effects elsewhere.
"Cassie," he said, getting her attention away from the maroon top and cream colored skirt combo she had held up at the moment. "Do you want to fail your classes?"
Her guileless face flashed first fear, then sadness, then determination all in a fraction of a second. "Noooo, Daddy, I promise I will work super hard!"
"Cassie we both know you're very dumb, so even if you study you'll probably fail, and daddy doesn't want that. Pretty girls like you have options, Cassie, other than failing because they are so dumb. Failing is bad. And what if you didn't have to, sweetie?" he asked, the words nearly catching in his throat as he said them.
Cassie considered the unexpected question and, clearly turning it over in her head suspiciously, as if it was a trapped box. Eventually she came to a surprisingly reasoned and well thought out answer which was, of course, completely wrong. "Daddy! Don't pull me out of school! I'll try my hardest! I will!"
He laughed again, smiling widely as his daughters concern disarmed him. "No silly girl, I'm not going to pull you out of school."
"Then how would I not have to work hard? Daddddy."
"I can show you something, teach you something, baby, that will let you get better grades without having to study. Would you like that?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy! How do I do it?"
"I'll show you sweetheart." Already only a pace away, he took that final step and, placing a hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, bent her slowly forward. She looked confused, but he cooed to her to trust him as he lifted the back of her skirt and slid down her panties.
"Daddy?! What are you doing?" she said with some alarm. He ran a fingertip down her bared slit, from hole to clit, just barely making contact along the way, and could immediately feel a change in her body, as he alarm faded to something else. She let out a tiny, quiet moan, and he knew immediately that he was committed now, and was lost.
"Do you know what this is I'm touching, baby girl?" he asked as his finger retraced the same route but going upwards. He felt a slight shake in her knees before she answered.
"My vagina, Daddy." She whispered.
"No, sweetie, you're older now. Old enough for this," he poked the tip of his finger lightly against her tiny hole, feeling some wetness on the tip as he pulled it back, hesitated, then decided to continue. He massaged the inner lips around the opening with his finger slowly, hoping to help her accept what he was doing, was going to do, by sending little ripples of pleasure radiating through her. "to be called your pussy. Can you remember that word?"
Cassie nibbled her lip and nodded, then responded in the barest whisper, "My Pussy, Daddy."
"Good girl. You are very pretty, Cassie, and pretty girls have an option that other girls don't. Other girls need to work hard in school. You are a very pretty girl, Cassie, and that means you could use this," his finger probed just a tiny way into her hole. "to avoid almost all your work."
The probing finger met slight resistance at the opening of Cassie's pussy, and she gasped. Her breathing quickened, slightly but noticeably. "H-how, Daddy?"
Instead of saying anything, he reached down and quickly unzipped his pants and released his already stiff dick from inside it. He stood behind and to the side of her, her bent at the waist and waiting nearly breathlessly as his fingertip pushed lightly in and out of her. He reached forward and arm and took her wrist, guiding it backwards to grasp his cock. "Do you know what this is, my dumb, pretty girl?" He felt her hand squeeze him questioningly, but due to the angle he stood at, the sight of it was denied her in the large mirror in front of them. He watched her wide eyes as she seemed to realize what she was holding despite being unable to see it, and saw a strange look come over her face.
"N-no, Daddy. What is it?"
"That is daddy's cock, baby. Every man has one of these, and pretty girls like you can do things to them that will make the man help you, so you won't have to be smart. Does that sound good, sweetie?"
"I... Yes, Daddy. I want to do well. What do I do?" She breathed, her eyes nearly closed now as though she was trying to focus her attention elsewhere.
In answer he pulled his cock from her hand and his hand from her now very wet snatch, and even as she started to protest not wanting to stop, he gently reached out, pushed her softly to her knees, and stepped in front of her. His cock twitched for a few seconds in front of her face as she stared at it dumbfounded, and he knew for certain she had never seen a real one in person before.
"Daddy!" She finally managed, "It's so big!"
"Yes, Cassie, and every man has one, though not all are this size."
"Bigger?" she asked with alarm, again not understanding. He laughed again at her for her incomprehension.
"Not many of them, no. But every one of them likes to be touched, baby, and if you touch them right, the men will do anything you ask them too."
She looked up at him with giant doe eyes that made his heart clench in his chest, and said "Will you... show me how, daddy?"
He laughed mirthfully again. "Of course I will, my poor dumb girl. School is very hard for you, I know, and what kind of a daddy would leave his little girl without knowing how to make it easier for her?"
She seemed to ponder it deeply. "A... not good one?"
"Yes, sweetie, that's right!" he said, causing her to beam. "And is your daddy good or.... Not good?"
"Good, Daddy! Very good!"
"Good girl, that's right. Now let me show you how to touch it." He placed her hands on the shaft and showed her how to slide them up and down slowly, how to gradually increase her pace. He showed her how to touch his balls, gently, cradling them, rolling them, massaging them. Then he asked her to use her mouth, and she complied willingly, licking and lightly sucking his testicles until his cock stood rigid and throbbing, and he instructed her on how to lick her way up it, from his balls to his head, dragging her tongue slowly and wetly, now sucking lightly on one side, now humming, and blowing alternately hot and cold. At last her young mouth found its way around the head of his dick and she began to suck him in earnest, her enjoyment of the experience evident in her manner and in the hand she occasionally sneaked between her legs to touch where his finger had been earlier.
He explained to her how she was going to select a boy or a teacher in each of her classes, and do this to him. How the boys would be easy, and then would do all her homework for her. How the teachers might be harder to please, but would make her pass her tests. She absorbed both his suggestions, instructions, and the precum he began to leak from her ministrations.
"When you do this for men, baby, they are going to want to say things to you, words that are normally bad things. When they say them while you do this, though they are compliments, and you should suck harder and agree."
"What... kind of... things... Daddy?" she asked after pulling his cock out of her mouth, still licking the swollen head between words.
"They'll call you a slut, and a whore and a bitch and lots of other things. But you just know they are saying that because of how good you are doing, and try to suck harder."
She smiled and sucked the top of his cock like a lollipop for a moment, then said "Okay, Daddy!"
"Do you want me to try calling you those things now so you can get used to it, Cassie?"
"Good girl. Look at how you suck that cock like a little slut. You like it, don't you, bitch?"
She hummed happily and sucked harder on his cock. She continued to do so for several minutes more before something seemed to occur to her, and she started licking his shaft again so she could speak.
"Daddy, am I those things?"
"No sweetie, you are a good girl, those are just words."
"Oh. Okay Daddy... What if someone says that when I'm not doing this? Then it might feel bad."
He looked down at her and felt a swelling of emotion at the idea of her being hurt.
"Sweetie, is your hand between your legs?"
She hesitated, checking. "Yes daddy, it just feels so good and its so wet."
"That's a good girl. I want you to do something for daddy."
She looked up eagerly at him, tongue slavering around his shaft. "What, daddy?"
He pulled his cock away from her and kneeled down to be even with her, despite her protestations. Protests that ended when her replaced her fingers between her legs with his own. It was very wet down there, he noticed. He withdrew his hand and held it up to her face.
"Do you see this wetness, Cassie?"
"Yes, Daddy. It came from in me."
"Yes it did sweetie. And when you are sucking boys and they call you something or do something that makes this stop coming out of you, I want you to say no, and stop. Do you understand?"
She shook her small head negatively. "No, Daddy."
"I want you to understand, daddy, Cassie. You are a good girl. Nothing can change that. You are going to suck their dicks so that you can pass the school, but you aren't a bad girl, and you don't have to do anything that makes this stop coming out. This shows that you are happy, Cassie, and having fun. As long as you are having fun, it's still good. If it stops being fun, you stop doing it."
Cassie looked plaintively at him, fidgeting just a bit, he realized, with the need to be touch again.
"But Daddy," she said. What if the boys tell people about it? "What if they make fun of me?"
He took her in his large arms and held her, feeling her concern fade, and feeling as well as her body trembled in his arms. Not with cold, he knew, but with heat. He felt a heat in his own body, and knew that her instruction was going to continue as soon as he could get her back on track.
"Shh, shh, baby." He lied lightly, "You tell each boy that you will stop doing it if they tell anyone. That way they won't dare!"
She pulled back and smiled slightly, and said "Really?"
"Of course, my dumb little girl! Trust Daddy." He said aloud. No, he answered mentally, they'll still talk of course, but by the time they do, and the talk gets around, school will be over for her. He felt her pulling back slightly, and saw her reach out her mouth to suck his finger, cleaning her juice off of it in desperation for more contact.