"What?" I shook my head in disgust.
"What's your Young Lady's name? You can call me that tonight, I don't care." She ground her pussy into my lap. My cock responded, but it was purely nature and not because I was interested.
"It's Eleanor," someone called from across the room.
"Ooh, Eleanor, I've been Eleanor once or twice. With Daddy Dale. What do I get to call you tonight?"
My stomach began to roll. I was going to be sick. I looked around the room as my brow began to sweat. Around me, men were pulling out condoms and girls were slipping off their panties. Loud, fake giggling rang throughout the room as men grunted over them and offered them praise.
"Please, ma'am, I don't feel so hot."I pleaded.
The idea that these men were all imagining themselves fucking their Young Ladies and then going back upstairs as if nothing had happened was sickening. But, was I any better, having actually touched mine? Guilt, shame, and disgust piled on top of each other in my head. It was suddenly too hot, too loud, and the smell of cheap perfume was far too strong.
"Oh, Daddy, are you okay?" The brunette on my lap pouted. "What if we went to a more private room?"
I shook my head. "Miss, I don't think that's a good idea. I need to get some fresh air." I tried to push her off me but she reached down and grabbed at my cock through my trousers.
"Look, I am not leaving until I get paid and you're--"
Vomit rushed up my throat and I shoved her off me and ran to the trash can in the corner and began to violently throw up.
What the fuck was wrong with me? That I understood why they did this. Or I couldn't act out this fantasy with them because having your Young Lady for real was way better than these imposters down below. And as I stood up and wiped my mouth, I left the establishment with my cock still hard and the full intent of returning to my quarters and doing just that.
Chapter 20 - Eleanor
Play dead.
Ididn't turn my television on all evening. Every time I glanced over at it, disappointment would flood through me. What was he doing down there? Would he get married soon? Would I have to go to their wedding? Would I hold his children? The entire idea was bizarre and hurt my stomach. This was not how it was supposed to happen. None of it!
My Daddy was supposed to be old, unattractive, and more like a father than a...
My bottom clenched reflexively as I recalled what happened between Callahan and I. We'd both crossed a line. I could have stopped him at any time. I should have stopped him but I didn't. My emotions were all over the place and I just wanted to feel good for a moment. And I had. It had felt incredibly good. I'd never felt pleasure like that before and it made me yearn for more.
It was probably for the best that he'd gone with the other Daddies. Embarrassment washed over me as I realized that he must have seen right through my offer, and it was why he'd refused. He regretted what we'd done and was drawing the line.
I couldn't fault him for that. For doing his duties.
If he had to go down to Gen Pop and find himself a wife he was allowed to love and touch and give pleasure to, it wasn't fair of me to stop him. I lost my chance for a life like that when Milton disappeared. I needed to accept that.
I fell asleep on top of my blankets, clutching the drawing I'd done of me, holding hands with a faceless figure.
I woke up sometime later in a cold sweat, panting with fear and looking around the dark room frantically. I grabbed my bear and clutched it tightly as I cried.
I couldn't remember my dream, but terror overwhelmed me, and I couldn't shake it. With my entire body shaking, I climbed off the bed and went to my Daddy's door, still holding my bear. I knocked, and when he didn't answer, I pushed the button to open the door. Out of respect, I normally didn't use it, but I was scared and needed comfort.
The door opened and I took a trembling step in. "Daddy? Are you here?"
I remembered that he'd gone out. I crept deeper into his room and disappointment flooded my gaze as I saw his bed perfectly made and empty. I stood there, silently crying for a moment before going to his bed and lifting the comforter. I crawled into his bed and inhaled deeply. The scent of his soap and cologne relaxed me enough to close my eyes. I couldn't go back to my room, I decided. Not tonight. I soon fell asleep and was woken again sometime later by a loud thump.
I stiffened but didn't move.
"Eleanor, fuck, you're beautiful." Callahan's voice filled the room. "If I lift you up, you're gonna wake up. I can barely walk straight, Jesus H. Christ." He hiccuped. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. He stumbled to his bathroom, and I heard rustling, and then he returned to the bedroom.
"There, if we're gonna share a bed, at least I won't smell like vomit."
He threw up? Was he sick? It took everything in me not to react to his words. I was afraid he'd yell at me for coming into his room uninvited. I'd be more embarrassed and I wasn't sure my emotions could handle the shame. I'd never be able to look Callahan in the eyes ever again.
Carefully, I peaked my eyes open, just enough to see what was going on. My heart sped up as my vision adjusted to the darkness and I saw him, standing on the other side of the bed. He was only in his underwear. Dark, plaid shorts that went high up his thighs. My eyes scanned up. I could see every line in his muscled stomach, and he had a tattoo on his pectoral, but I couldn't make it out in the dark.
