"This will make you feel good. You just need to relax."
I stroked her wet, velvet folds tenderly. I explored her with a hunger I'd never felt before. God, how beautiful she was. She'd always been prettier than the other Young Ladies, but now, now she was otherworldly, splayed out with her ass in the air and her pussy on display for me to stroke as slow or as fast as I wanted. I matched her breathing cadences. She squirmed restlessly and gripped the sheets. Her breaths turned into pants and the hand stroking my member matched the speed at which my fingers strummed her clit.
"Oh, Daddy!" Eleanor cried out as she jerked and came all over my fingers. Her body pulsed, growing wetter and warmer. Her words had sent me over the edge as well, and I came in my hand. I opened my eyes once I came down, and stared at my hand, covered in my cum. What did I do? I gulped and removed the hand from between her legs.
"Do you feel better now?" I asked.
"Yes, Daddy."
With shaky hands, I dipped both into the jar, mixing my fluids with the arnica cream. I spread them around my hand, mixing them thoroughly and returned to her purple ass. "Just one more layer and then rest." I rubbed the concoction over her, admiring every curve and mark. I'd never seen such a beautiful thing as Eleanor orgasming. I wanted to experience it as much as possible if I could.
Post-come clarity hit me all of a sudden, as I finished spreading the lotion. I pulled back in disgust at myself. This wasn't the man I was twenty-four hours ago. This was someone entirely different. I was someone's Daddy now.
What had I just done to my Young Lady?
Rule Eight - Callahan
Protect your Young Lady at all costs.
We didn't speak about what happened the next morning. In fact, we didn't speak at all. I couldn't read her. Was she upset, embarrassed, angry? I was all three at myself.
I should have never let my devious desires interfere with my job. She was a Young Lady, and I was her Daddy. I was to be dedicated, attentive, devoted, and a defender of my Young Lady. Not her lover.
I followed her dutifully for the next week, like all the other Daddies. Unless we were on a mission above, most of our time was spent simply watching from a short distance to make sure they weren't doing or saying something they shouldn't be. What that could even possibly be was beyond me, but I did as I'd been trained.
The other Daddies, my seniors, were nice enough. They knew I knew their secret, the truth about what happened the night of Eleanor’s birthday, and could rat them out any second. Instead of being shitty to me, they chose to befriend me. They made jokes and invited me to have coffee in the morning and drinks at dinner. Despite all theattempted distractions, I was sweating bullets from morning ‘til night, when we’d return to our rooms.
Every time Eleanor spoke to one of her friends, panic shot up my spine. Would she tell them what I did? Which was worse, the brutal spanking or the later abuse of power? What would happen if they found out I broke my oath?
I tried my best to feign calmness. The only time Eleanor left my sight was to use the restroom. While she did call me by my title now, she continued to test my limits in public. I had let it slide for a day or so and then I couldn’t take it anymore and began lashing back at her. I threatened another private punishment and while she didn’t speak, her eyes told me to bring it on.
She knew I wouldn’t do it.
"Eleanor, we should talk,” I started, one night after a full week had gone by. We’d made it back to the privacy of her room and I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know what she thought of me.
"About what?" She didn't look back as she hurried to her bathroom. I opened and shut my mouth. What did that mean? Had I hurt her so badly she'd forgotten; or was she letting me off the hook? I stood there like an idiot for a moment before she turned at the door. "You're fine. I won't tell anyone what you did. Just leave me alone for a while, okay?"
I was taken aback slightly. She was letting this drop. But why? I'd known Eleanor since we were children. She wouldn't do something nice without a motive. She hated me.
"Good night, Daddy. I'm just going to shower, rub some more cream on my bottom, and rest. I'm still sore.” She gave me a quick wave and looked at me expectantly. I nodded and went to my room.
I heard her walking in her room and eventually, the shower started. Not being able to get the idea that she was hidingsomething out of my head, I went back to her room and began to look around. Had she perhaps sent a message to someone using one of the many gadgets Young Ladies had at their disposal?
I searched fast, not knowing how much time I had before she turned the shower off. I reached for her pillow and lifted it, finding a yellow, frayed envelope. I opened the letter and read the contents. My stomach dropped. No. This couldn't be. This made no sense. How? The shower turned off, and I stuffed the letter back and slid it under her pillow. I returned to my room and paced.
While I'd only had the chemically-stained letter in my hand for a brief moment, I was able to memorize what was written.
Eleanor,
I'm alive and safe. I will be waiting every night, where we last saw each other. I'll be hiding in the tram cart number 13. Climb up, meet me, and we can be each other's first time like you wanted. No one has to know.
Love,
Milton.
Love. Ha! Milton didn't love her. And he certainly wasn't a virgin. He'd been the one to take me to the Gen Pop bar in the first place. Initially, I doubted it was him who had written it, but the more I reread it in my mind, the more I was confident it really had been him. Somehow, he'd lasted a full month above ground. How?
It was all coming together now. Eleanor thought she could pull one over on me, but I was one step ahead of her. I started toward the door to confront her, but then realized it would do no good. If she didn't go tonight, she'd try tomorrow, or the next day. She thought Milton loved her, and she was too naive to know it was all a sham. No, I had to let her go and end this for good.
