Daddy's Man-Cave

My name is Monica. I want to tell you an amazing story about an amazing man. His name is Paul. At least that's what everyone else calls him. I simply call him Daddy.

For the first eight years of my life, I didn't even know he existed. My incubation unit left Daddy when I was a toddler and took me all over the country. We went on a trip to Las Vegas when I was eight. She left me alone in hotel rooms while she had fun with strange men and gambled away all her money. We were dirt poor, so I wasn't sure where the money came from on that trip.

We came back from Las Vegas on Christmas Eve. On that day, she stopped at a bank to use the restroom.

As I waited for her to return, I overheard a man having an argument with the bank teller. Evidently, he had discovered that someone had stolen his identity and his money and ran off to Las Vegas.

I was only seven at the time, but looking back now, I wonder. Could it have been my so-called "mother"? Was she capable of something like that?

Shortly after, the police came and tried to find my incubation unit. She was nowhere to be found. I never saw her again.

The next day was Christmas. I sat alone at the police department, waiting. I cried all day, scared. Terrified.

That afternoon, a man in his early 40s came to pick me up. I had never seen him before. He was very clean-cut and extremely handsome behind those horn-rimmed glasses that he sported. He was very nerdy looking, no doubt, but there was something about him...

He smiled at me and said, "let's go, sweetheart."

I asked him who he was and he told me that he was my Daddy.

We flew back to Tennessee, where he lived in a big beautiful house on several acres of land. He lived there alone. My brothers and sister had grown and were on their own.

Daddy told me that he couldn't do anything to fix Christmas, but said he would make it up to me on my upcoming eighth birthday.

He wasn't prepared to raise me. He had lived on his own for so many years, had a well-paying job and nobody to worry about but himself. On my 8th birthday party, he had invited all of the kids in the neighborhood. Before they arrived, however, three of Daddy's buddies dropped in. That was where things got tense.

As Jimmy, his wife Allison, and Ryan entered the house, they made a couple of inappropriate and crude comments. Then, to their surprise, saw me sitting there.

Daddy just glared at them. But with a smile on his face, he invited them out to the porch.

"Okay, guys," he said, "this is how it's gonna be: no smoking, no drinking, no weed, and no cussing or filthy talk around my daughter...you got that?"

"Daughter?" Jimmy asked.

"That's right," Daddy said, "I've done some bad shit, and some of it with you guys. But I have a chance to be a good dad and role model for her. I don't want her turning out like that cunt I married who dumped her off at a bank and left her. I have a real chance to make a difference in my little girl's life. So if you're going to behave yourselves, I'd like you to stay and get to know her. But if you've come here to set a bad example to my kid, I'd like you to leave."

He raised me under extremely strict rules, but also by example. He was a Christian man and heavily involved with his church. He was very moral and exceedingly protective of me. But there was one thing that I always thought was very mysterious: His bedroom door was always locked and I was never allowed anywhere near it. Throughout my childhood, I was never allowed so much as one peek of the inside of that room.

Once, I tried to pick the lock and Daddy caught me. That was a mistake.

He brought out a paddle and told me that he was going to give me a spanking, and that it would hurt him more than it would hurt me. After receiving a reddened bottom, I never again gave into the temptation to go in that room. I just accepted that it was off limits.

Otherwise, Daddy and I got along beautifully during my childhood. During my teen years, however, I was tempted a few times to stray from the wholesome child he had raised since eight.

One day, I dyed my hair pink and came home wearing makeup. Daddy was livid. He wasted no time cutting off every lock of my hair and telling me that I had to go to school like that. It was humiliating.

Nevertheless, I never disobeyed Daddy ever again. He was a soft and kind man, very pleasant and warm. But piss him off and he was tough as nails. He had a dark side that rarely came out. But when it did, watch out!

My first love was a boy named Brian. He was the stereotypical bad boy. Every girl loves the bad boys, and I'm no exception. Br, ian was three years older than me, he rode a Harley, he partied, and he was suspended from school on what seemed a weekly basis. He had a short temper and liked to fight. But he was so damn sexy. I especially loved his tattoos. But when Daddy found out, the shit hit the fan.

Daddy invited Brian to come over for a little talk. He told Brian that he refused to have his daughter hang around with a thug who will someday end up in prison. He said that he's tried very hard to be a good role model and raise me right. He called Brian trash and told him never to call or come around me again.

A couple years later, he dated a woman who seemed to really take to me. It was the first time I had ever seen him have a girlfriend. Daddy had always been too involved with work or church to have any kind of romance. Her name was Tanya and she was just barely four years older than me.

Tanya and I became fast friends. One night, we engaged in a little girl talk, I asked her what Daddy's bedroom looked like. Remember, I had never seen it.

"Honey, it's not a bedroom. It's a party house!" she said.

She told me that it's a huge room with a bar and a pool table and a jacuzzi. There is a Harley Davidson next to a fireplace and a gun rack...and lots and lots of alcohol. She says they party a lot when they're in there and Daddy often invites friends over. She says for 51 years old, he sure parties like a frat boy.

Holy shit! My very square, straight-laced father is a closet bad boy!

Then she started telling me all about the amazing sex they have together. I was thinking, "Do I really want to hear this?"

She went on to describe how he touches her in all the right places and makes her orgasm over and over again. I couldn't believe I was actually getting turned on!

My warm friendship with Tanya started turning to jealousy. I so wanted to see that side of Daddy.

I reminded Daddy that I was about to turn 18 and would like to come to one of those soirees in his room. He was furious that I even knew about them. I told him that Tanya let me in on the secret. That was the end of Tanya. They broke up very shortly after that.

One night, as I lay in bed, I could hear the faint sound of country music coming from the general direction of Daddy's bedroom. I went to knock on the door.

A young man around 20, drunk off his ass, answered.

"Hi, Babe!" he said. "Come on in!"

Just then, Daddy pulled the kid away and came out. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him without his trademark Clark Kent glasses. Daddy had the most beautiful baby blue eyes and if he wasn't my father, I thought...damn! Nevertheless, he reeked of alcohol and was clearly drunk. At that moment, he was a man I didn't recognize.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently touching my butt, "why don't you go on back to bed? We'll try to keep it down."

I smiled.

"Okay, Daddy. Good night."

He kissed me on the lips and quickly returned to his party.

That night, I lay in bed fantasizing...about Daddy! The thought of him fucking my 18 year old pussy made me wet. I had never had sex before. How could I have such hot feelings about Daddy? But that night, I knew what I wanted: I wanted Daddy to be my first.

The next morning, Daddy had breakfast ready and called me downstairs to join him. He was back to his old nerdy self: horn-rimmed glasses, plaid shirt, dress pants-- all dressed up and ready for a long day at the office.

I decided to test him. I stripped completely naked and put on a bath robe.

I went downstairs, my hair a mess. I wanted to look like I hadn't slept.

"Good morning, Daddy," I groaned.

"Sweetheart," he said, "about last night..."

At that moment, I pretended to "accidentally" drop my bath robe. I was standing there completely nude-- my breasts and pussy clearly on display for him to see. He was shocked.

"Sweetheart, uh..."

I just stood there and looked at him.

"You act like you've never seen a naked woman before," I said, putting my bath robe back on.

"Well, it's just that you're..."

"What?"

He smiled.

"I don't know...," he said.

I smiled back at him.

"Come on, Daddy," I said, "let's eat."

We sat down to have breakfast.

"So, if I told you I was thinking about, I don't know, going all the way with a guy..." I began.

"Absolutely not," he said.

"Daddy," I continued, "you didn't let me finish."

"Look, what you saw last night was a mistake," he said. "I've tried to raise you with good morals and be a good role model for you."

"You are a good role model, Daddy," I said. "You took me in when I was eight. You raised me. And you raised me with good values. But I'm almost 18 and I'm going to be a grown woman."

"But you'll always be my little girl," Daddy said, smiling.

A few days later, I came home after hanging out with a few friends and saw Daddy passed out in his recliner in front of the TV. I thought I would surprise him with a big hug and kiss. I kissed him on the mouth, just as he had kissed me before. Suddenly, he woke up.

"Honey!" he laughed, surprised, "what are you doing?"

"Just came home and thought I'd give you a kiss before going to bed," I said. "You're still my Daddy, right?"

"Of course," he smiled.

"Good night, babe," he said.

"Babe?" I asked.

"You know what I mean," Daddy said. "By the way, something is really weird with you lately. It's like..."

"I don't know," I said. "I'm just happy. There's a guy that I really like."

This piqued Daddy's interest.

"Oh," he said. "Tell me about him, sweetheart."

"Well, he's kind of a bad boy," I said.

"No," Daddy said. "No bad boys. Keep him out of my house."

"Well, that might be a little hard, considering he lives here," I said.

Oh boy! I couldn't believe I just said that. It just came out.

"What!" Daddy roared.

"Who the hell do you have living in my house without me knowing about it?"

Okay, I thought. I had already gone past the point of no return.

I walked over to kiss him again. This time, I tried to slip him the tongue, but he instantly shot away from me.

"It's you, Daddy."

Daddy laughed.

"Good one!" he said, laughing.

"Good night," I said, walking away. "Love you!"

The next morning was awkward, to say the least. Daddy and I ate breakfast silently. The tension was very thick.

"Sweetheart," Daddy said, "about this guy you keep talking about...who is he? I'm serious."

"I told you, Daddy, it's you."

"Sweetheart..." he said.

"I've just been having these fantasies lately, you know, about....you being my first," I confessed. "I want it to be you. You've always been a good father and protector. And I'd love for my first time to be with someone I love and respect as much as I do you. And that means nobody but you."

By now, Daddy knew I was serious.

"Sweetheart," he began, "it's perfectly normal to have those kind of fantasies. And you telling me that doesn't change anything between us at all. But I'm your father...and we just can't go there."

"I'm going to be 18 next week," I said. "I'm going to be an adult. We'll both be adults. We can keep it a secret. It's not like I want to marry you or anything. I just want to lose my virginity to the man I love most in this world...and that's you."

"Honey, I...I don't know what to say."

I got up and undid my blouse, showing him my breasts. Then I kissed him on the mouth again. This time, he offered no resistance.

"Just think about it, okay." I said. "I have to get to school."

Things were-- how would you say-- tense between me and Daddy for the next few days. I realized that I had made a complete ass of myself and I stopped trying to seduce Daddy.

One night, we had finished a very silent dinner and afterwards, I got up to do the dishes.

He then excused himself to go to his "bedroom" for a few.

"So how come you've never let me see your bedroom?" I asked.

"Sweetheart," he said, "there are certain boundaries that need to exist between you and I."

"Oh," I said. "We're back to that."

"Sweetheart..." he began.

I got up and walked toward him. I caressed his leg and began to search for his dick. I could feel it beginning to grow hard.

"Young lady," he said sternly. "Sit down."

I laughed.

"Daddy! I was enjoying that!"

But he suddenly became very parental.

"These are the ground rules," he began. "We're not going to do this. I don't want you walking around naked. I don't want you kissing me on the mouth. I don't want you playing with my crotch. We're going to have normal father-daughter boundaries in this house. Do you understand me?"

"Daddy!"

"Do you understand me!!!"

"Yes," I said.

"I don't want you to think I don't love you," he said. "I love you more than anything on this earth. But I'm not going to be having a sexual relationship with my daughter. Period."

"Okay," I said quietly.

"Now go to bed," he ordered.

I should have felt ashamed of what I did. But I didn't. The more Daddy resisted me, the more I wanted him. I figured that maybe the direct approach wasn't the best. Over the next few days, I thought of ways to gently seduce him without walking around the house naked. Clearly, I turned him on. But he needed to give himself permission to give in.

The next morning, at breakfast, Daddy had softened a bit.

"Listen, sweetheart," he said. "I'm sorry about the way I sent you to bed last night."

"Let me ask you something, Daddy," I said, "Did you enjoy it?"

He seemed a bit disgusted.

"Daddies and daughters aren't supposed to be doing that sort of thing, honey."

"That isn't what I asked."

"Okay," he admitted. "Yeah, I can see some guy someday is going to be very lucky to have a woman who..."

He stopped himself, looking for words.

"Gives good head?" I said, finishing that sentence.

"Monica, that's enough. Let's just forget about it, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Daddy," I said.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to shower. As I was showering, I heard footsteps come up the stairs. I saw Daddy's shadow hiding around the corner. I know he was watching me, since I left the bathroom door open and he could clearly see my naked body through the shower doors.

I finished my shower and stepped out. There was Daddy standing in front of me.

"You could have joined me, you know," I said.

I was naked, but he didn't seem to care.

"I just came up here to tell you to come straight home from school," he said. "I have a birthday present waiting for you."

All day at school, I daydreamed about the encounter. My daddy staring at my wet, naked body. I wanted his hard thick hands all over me, drying me off. I couldn't get the fantasy out of my head. But I wondered what he had in store for me when I got home.

I arrived home from school and saw a brand new blue Mustang in the driveway with a ribbon wrapped around it. Daddy came out to meet me.

"I figure you're going to be going away to college soon, and you'll need some wheels," he said.

"Daddy, I don't know what to say!"

I wrapped my arms around Daddy and gave him a big kiss on the lips.

"How about we take her for a spin?" He said.

Daddy and I drove around, taking in the scenery. He let me drive, which was awesome.

"Sweetheart, I hope you like your present," he said. "But I've got an even bigger one waiting for you."

"Oh?" I asked. "And what would that be?"

He took a deep breath.

"A decision."

I paused for a moment.

"What kind of a decision?"

Daddy smiled back at me.

"About your 18th birthday party."

"Oh."

That night, I lay in bed, waiting as the last hour of my childhood passed. In the hour between 11 o'clock and midnight, all sorts of thoughts went through my head. I thought about my incubation unit and how she had abandoned me and Daddy. I thought about my brothers and sister who rarely ever called or stopped by. I thought about how the only one in my life who really mattered was Daddy. Somehow, he's got to see that. But then, maybe he was right. A father and a daughter should have boundaries. Shouldn't they?

The clock struck midnight, and I was officially 18. Shortly after, I heard Daddy call me downstairs. I went to see what he wanted.

To my surprise, his normally closed and locked bedroom door was wide open. Oh my God, I thought.

"Daddy?" I said, confused.

I walked toward his bedroom. For the first time, I finally got a good look at what was behind that mysterious door. Daddy sat on a red velvet sectional sofa. Behind him was a fireplace and a mantle with pictures of me and dozens of other people who were obviously very important to him. He had a fire going. He had his glasses off, showing me the beautiful blue eyes I saw the night I walked in on the party. He went from Clark Kent to James Dean. Damn, he was sexy!

I walked toward him, but he stopped me.

"Stop right there, young lady," he said.

"Okay," I said, puzzled.

"I want you to stay on that side of the door right now."

"Okay," I said again. "Am I missing something?"

"What you're looking at," he began, "is the room where you were conceived. It's the room where your mother went into labor 18 years ago tonight.

"The side of the door you are standing on is where your mother and I brought you home from the hospital...where I changed your diapers and watched your first steps and heard your first words...before she took you from me. It's where I brought you ten years ago when she abandoned you. It's where I raised you, gave you a good upbringing. It's where I tried to set a good example so that you didn't make the choices I made."

I started to step forward, but he stopped me once again.

"No, not yet, " he said, "Hear me out first."

"I told you the other day that I'm giving you a decision," he continued. "You can stay on that side of the door and I will come out and join you. I'll keep trying my best to be a good dad and give you guidance and parental love, just as I always have. I'll keep the secrets that I keep on this side of the door here and this door won't ever be open again. If you choose to stay on the side of the door where you're standing, our relationship will be that of father and daughter....

"...But if you choose to step through the door and join me on this side, our relationship will be that of man and woman. This is the decision I said I would give you. I can't and I won't be both you father and your lover."

I was speechless. A million thoughts ran through my mind before I had a chance to catch them. But there was no contemplation. I walked through the door and sat down on the sofa next to Daddy. I placed my hand on his knee.

"There's no going back now," I said. "I chose."

He nodded.

"Yes, you did," he said. "Now go shut the door."

As I got up to close the door, Daddy took his shirt off, revealing a heavily tattooed chest and arms. He had a cross tattoo on his chest and a snake that wrapped all the way around his torso. On his arms were names.

"This one is your mama," he said, pointing to a butterfly.

"I've got one here on my back for your brothers and your sister," he continued.

Then, he pointed to an angel beneath his left nipple with my name on it.

"This one is you...my little angel," he said. "While I was in prison, your name was the only name visible to me out of all my kids."