by S. E. Law
“Thank you,” it says. “Now June, onto the dais please.”
I stand stock still. Am I being displayed for the men’s pleasure? Oh my god, what do I do?
But like a robot, I get onto the dais and face the crowd.
“Thank you. Please turn to the left ninety-degrees.”
I stay rooted to the spot. What? Alizeh’s words echo in my ears again. Just go with the flow.
Like a dazed tourist, I turn to the left. The male crowd rumbles with appreciation.
Then the voice says, “Turn to the right, please.”
Again, I do as it says, the white slip floating around my curves like a whisper. The men rumble again with approval.
But then the voice says something so shocking that I freeze like a rabbit in headlights.
“Bend over, June,” it commands. “Please reveal your curves to the audience.”
I gasp, rooted in place as my skin flushes and my insides go wet. Bend over? Are they kidding? My white slip dress is so short that it’ll ride up and show everything as I tilt my head towards the ground. The men in the ballroom will see my lush pinkness as my slit pulses before them. No wonder Alizeh didn’t give me a pair of panties when I changed!
I can’t do this. I won’t. But then, my back begins to descend as my bottom rises in the air. I’m breathing heavily, as hot chills run through my secret spot. Holy shit! I’m doing as the voice commands, and it’s all for the pleasure of the truckers in the room. Hopefully, they like what they see, but what comes next in this dirty display?
94
Finn
The girl is absolutely gorgeous. She’s curvy and brunette, with ivory skin and a sweet pout. She’s got a huge bosom as well as wide hips that make my mouth water and long, shapely legs ending in a pair of clear sparkly heels.
“Wow,” my brother Fred mutters next to me. “Holy shit.”
I elbow him slightly, warning him to keep quiet but he doesn’t even look at me. Instead, his blue eyes are fixed on the girl in the spotlight as his chest lifts and falls with excitement.
I don’t blame him because June Merchant is gorgeous. She’s a bigger woman, which is exactly what we like, and she also has that sweet yet devious look that tells us she’s ready. Her pout is plush and pink, and as her bottom rises in the air, it forms a perfect heart shape.
“Oh shit,” my other brother Forest groans audibly next to me. “Holy shit. Why aren’t I her initiator?”
I merely shake my head in the darkness, my gaze never leaving the sight of the bounteous June before us. Forest is right though. I’d love to claim June right here, in front of the other men. I’d love to take her innocence, and show her the ways of being with a man while teaching her the passionate gestures of love. It would be amazing, but some other guy won that lottery ticket.
But as I watch her smile and pose, from the corner of my eye, I see a huge, hulking figure approach the edge of the spotlight. We can’t see who it is, but it’s obviously someone who’s at least six five with a muscular physique. Just the tip of him enters the spotlight for a moment, and his shaft is dripping already, the purple helmet wet with need.
At that moment, June finally reaches the end of her bend. She’s got her legs spread, and her dress hitched up so that the silk pools on her lower back. She mewls and then runs her hands lovingly up her thighs, caressing the firm flesh. Her white mounds quiver in the air a bit, creamy and huge.
And oh god, but that slit. The pink puffiness is gorgeous and moist already with need. Her nub sticks out about an inch in the air, signaling her arousal, as her huge breasts swing and sway below her bent torso.
“Spread yourself, please,” the voice from the speakers instructs. “Show yourself to the audience.”
June’s cheeks color even though she’s upside down. But then she lets out a tiny mewl and slowly, her hands move up so that each one clutches a big cheek. Then she pulls herself open, moaning a bit as the huge moons spread. There’s a collective groan from the male crowd. Her slit opens slightly, revealing its ruby rose color inside, and of course, it’s wet and glistening with female nectar. My crotch jerks as my brothers stir restlessly by my side.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” growls Forest.
“Fuck,” adds Fred curtly.
But then, June lets out a small shriek. She’s got her head between her legs, and looking out from between that inverted vee, she’s caught a glimpse of the man standing in the shadows. All of a sudden, there’s a flurry of action. I don’t know what she’s seen, but she bolts upright and lets out another blood-curling scream.
What the hell? What just happened? She knew a man was coming for her, right? It’s a standard part of initiation. Confusion descends as every trucker in the room looks around, bewildered. Was there a ghost? A hidden camera that was just discovered? What went wrong?
But June merely shrieks again, her bosom heaving as all the blood drains from her face. Then she kicks off her high heels and bolts from the dais like streak of white lightning. Oh wow, she’s much faster than she looks.
The crowd is stunned, and nothing happens at first. We merely watch, immobile, as she darts for the double doors in the back of the ballroom before flinging them open and disappearing into the hallway of the hotel. What the hell?
Holy shit, we have a case of the Runaway Bride on our hands. Or in this situation, the Runaway Initiate would be more appropriate.
As the curvy girl makes her escape, the room erupts into pandemonium. Men gesture with their hands and a low roar fills my ears. The spotlight goes off for a moment, and we’re cloaked in total darkness. Then the light comes on again, and the truckers glare at each other in confusion. What the hell just happened?
But it’s too late. The curvy June is gone, and we’re left with nothing. The trucker who was supposed to initiate her has also disappeared, but for that, I’m grateful. I was getting jealous of that asshole, as were my brothers at my side. Maybe this ceremony was interrupted, but Forest, Fred and I will get it back on the rails in no time.
95
June
My pulse is racing and the top of my head feels like it’s going to blow off. What the hell? I dart around the hotel hallways, zigzagging right and left. I have no idea where I’m going, but I’m like an animal in a panic. I keep running and running and running, and frankly, I might be doing circles at this point.
But it doesn’t matter. I can’t believe that that just happened. Owen and Alizeh owe me an apology because why didn’t they tell me? Sure, they gave me hints about what was going to happen during the ceremony. There was talk about “becoming a woman,” “exploring your femininity,” and “the club will show you the way.” But no one told me that a man whom I’ve never met was going to claim my innocence! And not only that, but that he was going to do it in front of an audience of huge, hung truckers.
What the hell? I’m flustered, angry, panicked, and lost all at once. My vision is going blurry, and I round another corner, still unable to think. I can’t believe my dad set me up for that! Why didn’t he tell me in detail what was going to happen? I would have been angry, but at least I would have had a choice.
Suddenly, a huge hand grabs my arm and I’m swung around so hard that my head knocks a bit on itself.
“June!” my dad says. “Get yourself together!”
I bobble to a stop, staring at him. Owen’s face is dark, like he’s seen thunderclouds. His mouth is pulled into a grim line, and those blue eyes are practically black with anger.
I don’t even answer. I merely open my mouth and let out a blood-curling scream.
My dad shakes me again.
“Stop with the hysteria!” he orders roughly. “Get yourself together! I didn’t raise you to be a weeping willow who cries at everything.”
I’m just about to open my mouth and scream again, but then my lips snap shut. He’s right. Owen’s always told me to “show them just how tough you are,” and this is my moment.
“What was that about?” my dad demands onc
e more.
I stare at him, disbelieving.
“You didn’t see?”
He snorts.
“I’m your father,” he grinds out. “No father attends his own daughter’s initiation.”
The blood rises to my face, and I can feel rage churning in my breast.
“Oh good because what happened was pretty nasty,” I say in a harsh voice. “You set me up!”
My dad shakes his head.
“I did no such thing.”
“You DID!” I almost scream again, although now there’s an edge of pain to my voice. “You told me that I was going to talk with an older girl about ‘maturing into a woman’ and all that bullshit. You said that you wanted to ‘carry out your parental duties’ and that you’ve been stressed about being both mother and father to me. Is this your idea of doing a good job as a dad?”
Owen stares at me, his gaze flinty.
“Keep it down, June,” he warns in a low voice. “We’re in public.”
I stare right back at him, practically shaking with anger.
“Do you think I care that we’re in public, given just what happened to me?”
My dad snorts heavily and shakes his head impatiently.
“So what happened? I didn’t see what happened because I wasn’t in that room. But why did you come out wailing like a banshee? Did lightning strike?”
I shake my head furiously.
“No, but it might as well have. I was on stage, doing my little dance for all your friends.”
He stares at me.
“Right, but didn’t Alizeh tell you that that’s what was going to happen?”
“She did!” I exclaim. “But not in any sort of detail. I thought I was going to go out, smile, curtsey, and do the standard debutante stuff. I didn’t know I was going to wear a negligee with stripper heels, and then be asked to show myself to your friends!”
My dad stares at me.
“Did you do it?”
Rage suffuses my form once more.
“I DID! That’s the worst part!” I almost scream again. “I did it, and I liked it!”
Now, my dad’s utterly confused. Owen sits down in a nearby chair and buries his head in his hands before looking up again. His black hair is ruffled and weariness emanates from his slumped shoulders. He lifts his head, and there’s defeat in his blue gaze.
“So what happened, June? Why were you running like a bat out of hell? What went wrong?”
I stare at him, tempted to scream again, but obviously, that approach isn’t working. Instead, I gingerly lower myself into the chair opposite my dad.
“What happened is that I was in the spotlight dancing before your male friends, and I liked it,” I manage in a choked voice. “But then I saw … I saw …”
My dad shoots me a searching gaze.
“What did you see, honey? What was so terrible?”
My face crumples and I bury it in my hands as the tears begin to roll.
“I saw that,” I manage in a choked whisper. “It was so big and huge, and I guess I just panicked. I didn’t realize that was going to happen.”
Realization dawns on my father’s face.
“You saw your initiator’s tool,” he says slowly.
I look up, my face tear-stained and blotchy.
“I was trying to go with the flow,” I respond in a dull voice. My eyes stare straight ahead, and yet I see nothing. “Just like you and Alizeh said. Just go with the flow. Feel the beat. Give into the rhythm. I was doing okay, or so I thought, but then I looked up and there was that. He was huge, Daddy,” I say in a tiny whisper. “I can’t take something like that into me. It would destroy me,” I say in a low voice.
Sympathy fills my dad’s face.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he comforts. “It’s my fault. I should have prepared you better. I should have told you what was coming –”
I interrupt then.
“You didn’t tell me anything! At least, not anything specific. You left it all to Alizeh, and she was freaked out too. She couldn’t get the words out, and as a result, I had no idea what was going to happen during the ceremony.”
My dad looks down at his clasped hands, his shoulders slumping again.
“I know, baby girl. I’ve failed in my efforts to show you how to be a woman. This whole thing has been a giant clusterfuck, and it’s my fault. I never should have introduced you to the club, much less set you up for an initiation.”
I sit up rigidly, staring at him.
“While we’re on the subject of the club,” I say in a tight voice. “What is it exactly that Dads and Daughters does? Don’t leave out any details,” I say stiffly.
Owen stares at the ground again, and come to think of it, I’ve never seen someone look so defeated. My dad is big, but he seems to shrink into himself so that he appears old and frail. Wrinkles bracket his eyes and mouth, and even his shoulders seem to wilt a bit.
“Dads and Daughters is about truckers,” he begins.
“I know that,” I say in a clipped voice. “I’ve heard some of this already. Let’s get to the juicy parts that you left out.”
My dad inhales again, still not meeting my eyes.
“June, life on the road is difficult for truckers. We’re alone a lot, and often for weeks at a time. So we set up a system where young, nubile women come to rest stops to service us. It works out because the women get to be with older alpha males who care about them, while we have our needs met by beautiful, willing girls. That’s Dads and Daughters in a nutshell for you.”
I stare at him.
“Why couldn’t you have just told me this at the beginning? Why did you keep beating around the bush? It only took three sentences and thirty seconds.”
Owen scrubs his face, looking even more defeated than before.
“I don’t know, June. I just couldn’t. I’m ashamed to even be telling you about our arrangement now. It’s not something that fathers usually want for their daughters.”
I stare at him.
“But you wanted it for me.”
“Yes,” says Owen. “No. I don’t know,” he says, his expression conflicted.
“Is it because I dress like a goth and have weird friends?” I ask, feeling confused myself. “Is it because I get straight A’s? I really don’t get it, Owen. Why did you want me to join?”
His expression is tortured, and his facial features contort in a confused scowl.
“I don’t know, June. Maybe I had an episode of momentary psychosis. A spell of sorts. All I know is that you didn’t seem to be developing like the other truckers’ daughters. You wear purple lipstick and black fishnet tights. You and your friends are always holed up in your rooms doing who knows what.”
“We were studying,” I interrupt.
Owen nods his head slowly, his expression still conflicted.
“I know, but what about cheerleading? Sports? French club? You don’t do any of those things, Junie. You’re always with your bizarre friends, and for all I know, they’re lesbians.”
I squint at him, realization dawning in my mind.
“Is that what you’re afraid of? That Coke and Danger are lesbians?”
Owen shrugs.
“I don’t know, okay? I mean, don’t lesbians have names like Coke and Danger? I had no idea what you were doing with them behind closed doors.”
I stare at my dad again.
“But what if I am a lesbian? What would be the purpose of this initiation? I mean, after what happened, I would be scarred for life if I actually prefer women.”
My dad scrubs his face again, looking even more defeated and bewildered.
“I know, June. I’ve completely screwed up.”
I nod vehemently.
“You have, Owen, because it doesn’t matter if Coke and Danger are LGBTQ. Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. I wouldn’t choose my friends based on sexual orientation, and if anything, being lesbians would only make them cooler in my estimation. I love queer people, and I can’t be
lieve you tried to get into my head using this bizarre Dads and Daughters initiation rite.”
Owen merely stares at his bronzed hands, unable to meet my gaze.
“I know, June. I have nothing against the LGBT population, and it’s my fault. I just didn’t know what to do,” he says in a choked voice. “I didn’t know how to talk to you about your sexual orientation, and honey, if you are lesbian, it’s fine. I know you were scared by that man in the ring and that’s natural for anyone who prefers women–”
I stop him there.
“I’m not lesbian, Dad. I was scared because of his size, not because I like women.”
But Owen doesn’t hear me. His face crumples a bit, and his eyes begin to shine with tears.
“It’s okay, Junie. I love you no matter what. If you like women, men, queer people, foreign people, even people from outerspace, it’s all okay with me. You’re my daughter, June, and I accept you for who you are. I’ve fucked up,” he adds again in a choked voice. “And I hope you can forgive me.”
I inhale deeply.
“Owen,” I say in what I hope is a calm voice. “I’m not a lesbian. Do you hear me? Besides, that’s not what I’m angry with you about. I’m angry because you told me nothing about Dads and Daughters. Instead, you left it to that nincompoop Alizeh, who has bird food for brains. And instead of talking to me like an adult about sex and sexual orientation, you masterminded a weird initiation in front of all your friends! You can rest assured that I’m not joining Dads and Daughters. Not after everything that’s happened.”
My father is openly crying now, and my heart breaks for how devastated he must feel.
“I’m sorry, June,” he apologizes. “I’ve been so stressed out about being a good parent, and now I’ve only gone and fucked it up more. I’ve made an unholy mess of things.”
“You have,” I manage in a calm voice. “But let’s try to re-group okay? I’m not LGBTQ. I love you, even though this situation is twisted beyond all control. Let’s just take a deep breath, and try and keep things sane for now, okay? Dad, I’m going to leave you now, but let’s regroup in a few days and try to figure things out. I’m not going to join Dads and Daughters, but it’s fine. I don’t need to be part of any group to know myself.”
