The Whore of St. Mary's

"Latin?"

"Yes, it is required course at school."

"Thank you Master."

In the past three weeks, I've found my one true happiness, taking a shower. I was alone. I was at peace. No orders, no crazy demands. Just me and the water beading down my body. Washing me. Absolving my sins. But this shower is different. There is nothing I can do to remove the guilt. Julia was so innocent only four weeks ago. She had lost her mom and never had a father. Now she demanded I give her cunnilingus. My own daughter. I am going to hell. Suddenly the bathroom door opened.

"You've been in there a long time and I'm hungry. Hurry the fuck up!"

"Yes Master." I sighed and turned off the water.

Every morning, I was Julia's alarm clock. I had to wake her up with oral satisfaction. She never touched me, nor could I touch myself. That would've been bad for business. During the day, I was cleaning the house and prepping for dinner. Damn, Julia can be a slob. When she arrived home from school, she always had someone with her. The girls would range from beauty, the title I gave the first one, to oh shit, that's a female? Some were becoming regulars. They got a discount. After the girl would leave, I would have to crawl over and take care of Julia again. I'd then shower, cook dinner, and go to bed. On Fridays, girls would pay for full dates. Dinner, movie, and time alone with me. Prom was my own personal nightmare. I had four dates, each paying for an hour and a half interval. By the fourth girl, I was shooting blanks. They all left happy though. I couldn't afford for them not to. Julia was always barking orders and ensuring everything was under control. If even there was the slightest negative comment, there was punishment.

I was finally in the oasis of another shower and definitely excited to be here after an especially torturous day. I had overslept, which in turn meant Julia overslept. A critical error on my part. The tennis racket left several bruises. Can coffee really taste so deplorable that it warrants the coffee mug to be thrown at my head? I suppose so. To add to my demise, the girl I pleased today, I nicknamed this one the bitch, after three orgasms, three fucking orgasms, with a sly smile and a wink towards me, told Julia I wasn't really worth it and she has had better. Julia pounced on me right there. I think my left arm is hanging by a thread. I now wonder if Julia's innocence permanently gone? Can I make this right? She is always near. Hovering around me, orbiting around me like a satellite. Stalking me as if I was her prey. Oh my God. Could it be that simple? Is it really just her way of forcing me to be close to her? That this relationship, in her eyes, is acceptable, even justified so she can have a relationship with her father. I'm not sure, but I am going to pursue this hypothesis till the bitter end. But how? I'm not permitted to question her. She won't allow me to pry into her feelings. This is going to be brutally painful if done wrong. I must first plant the seed.

I finished my shower and hurriedly went into the kitchen to cook. As always, Julia followed me and sat at the table, her eyes focused on me as if she were a hawk. I set her dinner and beverage down and, instead of going directly to get my meal, I bent down and gave her the most fatherly hug, tight and forceful, without being threatening and simply said, "I love you and I'm sorry." I lingered for a moment, and then ended the embrace. I collected my dinner and sat down. Julia had the most puzzling look on her face. I pretended not to notice and casually put my fork to my food. I repeated my actions every night and after a week, the shock of what I was doing had dissipated. It was accepted and, to my delight, without repercussions. Time to up the ante.

Next morning at breakfast I tenderly kissed the top of her head. "Do you have any plans for college, sweetheart?" Sweetheart not master.

Julia's eyes interrogated me as she responded. "USC." Her answer drew out as she spoke it.

"That's wonderful. I'm glad you picked somewhere close so you could stay at home. I would've missed you." I took a drink of my coffee. "Do you know what you want to major in?"

"Engineering. What are you doing?"

"I was only curious in my Master's plans after high school, nothing more." She was on the defensive. The conversation was over and she didn't know how to take it. For the next two weeks I continued with my ploy. I stole light, fatherly touches when I could and substituted sweetheart for master a few times a day. I built discussions with her by talking about the mundane. School, homework, hobbies, and pet peeves all were received well. I even got away with waking her up in a normal way under the ruse "breakfast is burning." I was overwhelmed with joy when I pulled that one off. Anytime Julia questioned my motives, I immediately returned to my subservient role, all without penalty to me. I also began skimming money off the top of the grocery funds she gave me. I invented fictitious household problems that required cash as well. A necessary deception that if Julia found out, all the hard work I have done would be lost. The foundation was in place.

Julia's graduation was a lovely affair. I was filled with a sense of gratification when my daughter was announced as the salutatorian. When the event was over, I rushed to her. As I hugged her, I picked her up and spun her around. I looked her dead in the eye.

"I'm so proud of you." I didn't fear punishment because I didn't care. It was only the second time I felt like a father. I let loose a few tears. "I hope you're not upset sweetheart, but I wanted to surprise you." I put my arm around her shoulders as I gestured for the limo I rented to come pick us up. Julia had a beaming smile. I had no idea how heart- warming her smile could be. I took her to a five star restaurant. I don't believe she has never been to one, and based on her reaction, I was right. The food was fantastic and the conversation flowed. Nothing was forced and she even accepted my offer for a dance. We then went to the musical "West Side Story." A great performance. On the way home, she sat next to me and even had her head on my shoulder.

"Julia, sweetheart. There's one more thing".

Her hand swept across her body and landed softly on my chest and clutched my shirt. She was waiting for the bad news. "What's that?"

"I want to give you this. I really am proud of you." I handed her a small box. She opened it. Inside was a gold locket and a note.

To my daughter, Julia on her graduation day:

I cannot replace the years I was nonexistent in your life. I cannot apologize enough or demonstrate the sorrow I feel. I have tremendous regret and it hurts my soul. I can tell you that I am here now. I want to be with you, by you, and support you in all your endeavors in life. This I promise. I love you.

Inside the locket was a picture of the two of us. One I had to search a great deal of time to find. It was a picture of me, a proud parent, holding my newborn baby girl. My first fatherly moment.

Julia began to weep. "Oh, daddy."

Fatherly moment number three.