As John stood in front of her door, he was surprised to find he was nervous. Although he held out hope that this was all a big mistake, he was afraid that it wasn't, and that thought scared him. If it was true, he didn't know what he would say or do, as it seemed so unbelievable to him. Well, it has to be done, he thought, as he raised his hand to the doorbell.
Claire had finished straightening up her apartment, and was excitedly awaiting her father's arrival. It had been a while since Daddy had been to visit her place, and she was always glad to see him. But she was also very curious about this visit, because when she had talked to him, he seemed so serious when he asked to come over, not like his usual joking self. She didn't have time to dwell on it, though, because the bell rang. She went to the door, and opened it to find him waiting outside, looking a bit ill at ease. She smiled at him, and pulled him into her apartment, giving him tight hug as he came past her.
John looked at his daughter, and despite his concern over what he came to talk about, he had to smile. She had grown into such a lovely young woman, with long dark hair, and a tight curvy figure that on another woman would have caused him to stare as she passed. He noticed that she dressed for attention, too, with a tight, lowcut blouse accenting her full breasts, and a short skirt hugging her rounded ass. Seeing her dressed like this reminded him of why he was here, and his smile faded as his face tightened.
"Come on, Daddy, have a seat," she said, as she led him into the living room. She had noticed the change in his face, and was anxious once again about his visit. She sat down next to him on the couch, and turned towards him.
"I think I should get right to the point, Claire," John said, "Or should I call you Sasha?" The color drained out of her face, oh my god he knows, she thought. How could this be?
"I was surfing the Internet last week, and I found the ads and the pictures, Claire. I didn't believe it at first, I just figured this Sasha girl had stolen your pictures for her website, but looking at your face, it must be true - you're a prostitute!"
At first Claire was too stunned to talk, her brain working a mile a minute trying to figure out what to say or do to fix this. She managed to stammer out, "Please, Daddy, you don't understand..." but John quickly cut her off, his rage building to a boil.
"Be quiet, you little whore! I just don't believe it, I raised you better than this, better than to sell your body, better than to spread your legs for any man with a few dollars! Just tell me, is it true?" he asked.
She just sat quietly, with her head hanging down, and answered in a voice barely louder than a whisper, "Yes."
