I shuddered as I thought of that word. I almost felt disgusted. My lovely princess – doing such dirty things? The skill, though! How’d she learned how to do that? When my wife had made her first attempts at giving blowjobs, they had been disastrous. Only after lots of attempts over the course of our entire honeymoon had she managed to actually take me to completion. How had Alisha managed to make me cum in just a few minutes? While I was so nervous? How could she be so good at this?
I turned off the shower. For a moment, I hesitated getting out. I almost wanted to turn it back on again and hide in here, but I knew it would only delay the inevitable. There was no getting around that I had to face my daughter. Better sooner than later, I thought… like ripping off a band-aid. This situation, whatever the fuck it was, had to be dealt with.
Dreading the coming conversation, I got dressed and went to the kitchen. Alisha sat at the table, staring at her phone while chowing down a bowl of cereal. I hesitated for a second and then walked past her, opening the fridge to get myself something to eat. It felt like I was hiding. Which was true, in a way. I just needed a few extra seconds to think. Just a minute or two, maybe – just the time it took to make myself a sandwich… In that time, I’d be ready.
Of course, when I sat down at the table with the sandwich and a cup of coffee, I didn’t feel ready at all. I had no idea what to say. Another few precious seconds were earned as I started eating. Couldn’t very well talk with food in my mouth, now, could I? I cast a glance over at her. She didn’t seem to notice. She just sat there, all casual like, scrolling on her phone.
“So…”
I cleared my throat. She didn’t react.
“Ahem… I… well…”
Nothing.
“I just… er…”
Still nothing. She just… sat there. Looking at her phone. Scrolling. Reading. While I kept clearing my suddenly-very-tight throat. I tried drinking some coffee, but my whole chest felt like it was tightening like a noose.
Eventually, Alisha stood up and put away her bowl, then grabbed her school bag and got ready to leave. I managed to clear my throat enough to speak just as she put on her denim jacket.
“Uh… Ali..? You know… in the bathroom just now… when you… er…”
Her response both confused and annoyed me in equal measure. She just casually shrugged and said:
“Yeah, I just felt like it. You’re taking me shopping today, right? Like you said?”
“Uh… what… am I?”
“Yeah, it’s Friday. You said…”
“Oh… right. Yeah. After work…”
“Yeah, I thought around six. Meet you at the mall?”
“…okay…”
“Cool. I’m off. Love you, Dad!”
“Love you… too…”
Then out the door she went, leaving me partly bewildered, partly relieved that I didn’t have to have the most awkward conversation ever right now. Left to myself, I just sat there for a while, thinking. What in the ever-loving fuck was happening to my daughter? Had she gone from a social recluse to a complete slut from one day to the next? Unlikely.
I started considering if anything had changed around here recently. Her therapy? Sure, that was fairly new. Still, we had only been talking about boosting her self esteem – it’s not like I’d hypnotized her to have sex with someone at the first opportunity. Even if I had, that’s not how hypnosis works. You can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they’re not OK with. The KGB can’t hypnotize someone to be an undercover assassin, and your average Joe from Long Island can’t hypnotize his daughter into giving him a blowjob. They’d have to want to do it.