Since finishing school, I've been working part time as a barista during the days for the past five years. That wasn't really making me enough cash to be able to move out of my parents' place, so about a year ago, I took up a second job as an escort. Compared to the cafe, I was making pretty good money without having to work as hard for it. Go on a date, make your client feel special, maybe have some sex. I could set my own hours, set the rules, and sometimes the sex wasn't even terrible. There were definitely worse jobs for a woman in her early 20s, not that I was ever game to tell my parents what my second job really was. There have always been issues between us, so my parents finding out I'd taken up a job in the sex industry would've been a fucking disaster.
I think once I started discovering myself, my parents were never particularly happy with me. Once I started getting tattoos and facial piercings, that pretty much confirmed it. As if that weren't enough for them, I keep my black hair fairly short, and I've dyed it a combination of bright green and deep purple - none of that wimpy pastel shit for me. I spend my down time listening to various subgenres of electronica and playing games or just generally wasting time online.
Physically, I'm just shy of 5'4" and I'm quite skinny, with perky little A-cup breasts. My parents are Japanese, so I have naturally light brown skin and brown eyes. I won't bore you with details of them all, but I'll just tell you that I have tattoos on my thighs, they cover most of my arms, and there's a few smaller ones on my back. My piercings are mainly localised to my face - 3 in each ear, one in my nose, one in each eyebrow, plus the one in my belly button.
There were very few girls with my looks and personality in my town, so I guess I filled a niche without really trying. The fact I was good at my job was just icing on the cake for my clients. Word of me and my talents slowly got around town, and soon I had bookings for more than 4 days a week. So when some guy made an appointment to meet me at a motel on a Thursday night, it seemed like business as usual. Oh, how wrong I was.
As per the instructions he'd left me, I checked into the room and waited for him. I touched up my makeup in the mirror, fixed up my hair, played with my phone and generally just killed time while waiting for my appointment to arrive. About 20 minutes passed, and I finally heard someone fumbling with the card key before they managed to open up the door. I put on my best alluring smile and stood in the middle of the room, ready to greet my newest client.
When my father walked into the room, I felt weak at the knees.
"Dad?" Shocked, my mouth was almost too dry to talk, so my voice sounded very hoarse. "Uh, what are you doing here? Do you have the right room?" Ignoring the fact he shouldn't even be in this hotel at all, nor should I in his mind.
"Of course I have the right room, darling," he replied smugly. "Did you really think you could keep your little job a secret from your mother and me?"
"Wait, wait, wait. Mum knows about this?"
"Not yet. But that all depends on whether I get what I came here for, Ashley." He pulled an envelope out of his pants pocket and tossed it casually on the table beside him. "Five grand. Double your going rate. Just our little secret," he smiled creepily.
"For what?"
"Don't play dumb, Ash. Do your job: fuck me, you dirty little whore." He sat down on the sofa and waited.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus Christ, that's so gross. I always knew you were a fucking pervert, but incest? That's beyond fucked up, even for you," I counteroffered. "Why don't you just keep your money and just not tell Mum?"
"Because the world doesn't work that way, darling. Now, be a good girl and strip for your Daddy."
In the moments that followed, I seriously considered whether murdering him would be a viable option. I looked at my father, sitting on the lounge. He was gruff, solid and had very strong hands from working as a mechanic for the past 30 years. The chances of a tiny girl like me overpowering him were pretty non-existent. With no other choice, I swallowed my pride and gave into my father's perverse blackmail demands.
I turned my back to him and slowly unzipped my dress, revealing my back to him inch by inch. I passed my bra strap and continued down to the end of the zip, an inch or two above my butt. I slid the straps off my shoulders and let the dress fall to the no doubt filthy motel carpet. I looked over my shoulder at him. "Like this?" I asked, my voice trembling more than I liked.
He already had a sizeable tent in his pants. "Just like that, baby. And you're gonna need to call me 'Daddy' any time you address me, sweetie." He sure did like rubbing salt into the wound.
"Of course, Daddy," I sighed. I'd seen a few clients who'd made me roleplay as their sister or their daughter, and I was usually pretty okay with that. But none of those guys were my family members, were they? The fact I'd have to be constantly reminding him and myself that I was getting fucked by my father added another dark, twisted layer onto an already awful situation.
