Dominated by Daddy’s Best Friend
By: Natasha Spencer
Dominated by Daddy’s Best Friend
© November 2017 – All rights reserved
By Natasha Spencer,
Published by Passionate Publishing Inc.
This is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
This book is for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Warning
This book is intended for adult readers, 18+ years old. Please close this e-book if you are not comfortable reading adult content.
Chapter 1
“Fuck,” Candice said. She held the pregnancy stick in her hand. The little white space showed a plus sign. “No, no, no!”
She grabbed the box off the top of the toilet tank and looked at the instructions again. She should have had her period already. She knew because she kept track in her planner writing a big “P” for period on the day that her monthly menstruation started.
Letting Mitch cum in her wasn’t a good idea. She knew it. She was a little drunk and when the condom broke, she said that it was fine. He’d been insistent and she caved a little. It’d felt good and afterwards she’d taken a shower. She hadn’t thought about it much then. She had never gotten pregnant before.
Now though it didn’t feel so good. She’d got the test at the pharmacy after she’d finished work. She hadn’t thought much about missing her period by a day or two; sometimes things came a little slow and she’d been working out a lot lately. Candice had read somewhere that working out more could alter your cycle. Then one day had turned into two and after more days had passed, she had finally decided to buy the pregnancy test once and for all.
She’d sat on the toilet and peed on the stick then set it facing up on the sink. She tried not to think too much about urine potentially being on her sink, after all there were bigger problems at hand. Candice had waited the necessary five minutes for the results to come in. She’d left the room and had turned on Home Alone.
Kevin McCallister, played by the young Macaulay Culkin, was just being miscounted by his family when the alarm on her phone rang. As Kevin woke up home alone while his entire family went on vacation, Candice was in the bathroom looking at the plus sign.
“Fuuuucccckkkk,” she said. She threw the stick into the garbage. It bounced in the small trash can. Her apartment was small, a one bedroom, and the sound of the pregnancy test slamming in the trash echoed in the room.
Candice looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. She wasn’t ready to be a parent. She should have taken a morning-after pill. She shouldn’t have trusted Mitch.
She turned on the water in the sink and splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up. She didn’t have anything to do until 9 a.m. tomorrow at which point she’d have to be at work again. Water dripped down her face and she massaged her cheeks. She pulled back the skin and leaned into the mirror. Small crow’s feet were beginning to form at the edge of her eyes. Everyone always told her that she had a young face. She’d inherited her father’s ageless face but wrinkles were starting to form.
She sucked in her cheeks and bit down on the flesh inside her mouth. Her teeth grated against the soft tissue and she could feel the inside of her mouth begin to bleed. She gripped the edge of the sink and leaned her head forward. Her forehead touched the cold mirror. A drop of water fell down her forehead and onto the mirror leaving a trail. It would smudge the mirror and leave a water mark.
She pulled away from the mirror and walked into the living room. The apartment was thirty-five square meters. She afforded it from her job as a copywriter for an internet startup. She’d been living in the Bay Area for ten years now, originally following her sister to the area. Pauline had moved back to Los Angeles to be close to her mom and dad but Candice had stayed. She’d stayed and made bad decisions.
She went and sat down on the couch. She began to zone out as the movie played on. She half paid attention as Kevin McCallister was spooked by Old Man Marley, the terrifying next door neighbor.
Candice stared at the TV and tried to think as the Wet Bandits, the villains of the movie, plotted to break into McCallister’s house and steal his family’s belongings.
She had to make the call. She had to tell him.
“Hello?”
“Yeah I’d like a large pizza to be delivered,” she said.
“Sure. Are you calling from 890 Wood Street?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Great. Did you want any toppings on that?”
“Can I get pineapple and jalapeño?” Candice asked.
“Sure. It should be about 20 minutes. We’ll give you a ring when we’re there.”
“Great.”
Candice hung up. “I’ll call him after I eat,” she said aloud. She was pregnant, or at least the pregnancy test, which according to the internet and to the box that stated it was 90% accurate, said she was. There was still a sliver of doubt though. It could be a false positive, she hoped.
She wondered what the etiquette was for her situation. Should she even tell Mitch? They’d been hooking up for the last few months, but it wasn’t like they did much more than fuck. Other than that, she didn’t know much about him.
She knew his body well though. He had a scar on his left ribs from having punctured his lung in a motorcycle accident when he was young. His first tattoo had been of a bird on his upper right shoulder. He’d gotten it when he was eighteen. It was faded and not well done. In the mornings, if he wasn’t hung over, which was rare, he did push-ups. She would watch as his elbows acted as levers and he sank towards the floor. He did 50 push-ups and 100 sit-ups. Afterwards he would take a shower. He didn’t brush his teeth before bed so Candice had bought him a toothbrush. He used it only occasionally.
His hair was light brown and he had a large nose. He didn’t wear glasses but he needed to and would often squint at her. His chest was caved in and he told her that he spent most of his high school years trying to correct it.
Candice had been attracted to him enough. He made her laugh, occasionally, with bad jokes, mainly puns. His voice, one of the more attractive parts of him, was soft and smooth. It reminded Candice of melted butter. It was rich and added to everything that he said. She wasn’t sure what she liked more, him or his voice.
On their first date, they’d had coffee. He’d shown up 10 minutes late and on a café racer. The bike, as Mitch went on about it, cost him $10k. He’d worked two jobs to purchase the bike, although he never told her what two jobs he did.
“It has a ride by wire throttle,” he said. “Traction control that can be switched on and off. A slip-assist clutch. And look at the way it looks, it’s absolutely beautiful.”
The two had sat at a coffee shop that was all white in the interior for forty minutes. He talked about his motorcycle for twenty minutes and then had switched to his next favorite subject, pizza.
“I never much liked Lanesplitter’s,” he said. “They are inconsistent and the interior of the restaurant is a bit drab.”
“You like Pizzaoila better?” Candice had asked.
“That’s too pretentious. Who wants to spend $20 for a small personal pizza? Yeah it has figs on it with cheese from the Himalayans but do goats from the mountains really create that good of feta? I don’t think so.”
“Do you ever make your own pizza?”
“No. I always order out. I have a list. I’m making my way through it.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a complete list of all the pizzerias in the Bay Area. I got through Berkeley already. I’m going through North Oakland now. I get at least two pizzas a week. It’s basically the only thing I ever eat,” he said.
Candice had sipped at her latte slowly as Mitch had gone on and on about pizza. The perfect c
rust, the perfect cheese, the perfect balance of topping to cheese ratio. He then went on to talk about his shrine to pizza in his apartment. He’d framed several pizza boxes and a few articles that he’d written about pizza for his personal blog. He’d never been published anywhere else for his food reviews.
After nineteen minutes of an almost nonstop monologue about pizza, he asked her if she wanted to go back to his place.
She nodded.
The backseat of his motorcycle was small. He’d brought a spare helmet.
“I knew that you would come home with me,” he said. “Girls love a man with a motorcycle.”
The helmet was a half helmet, the kind that just covered the top of the head. It didn’t seem very protective and Candice worried what would happen if they got into an accident. She imagined her face being pulled apart as Mitch sped down the streets and headed for East Oakland.
Mitch lived in a small apartment near Lake Merritt. He said he’d been there for ages. She felt a little better about going to his apartment after seeing how clean it was. His bed was made with military precision and he talked about how he did a thorough cleaning every week: scrubbing the bathroom, sweeping and mopping the floors, and changing the bed linens.
There was the pizza shrine along with his computer. He told her that he spent a lot of time at his computer doing research.
“What do you research?” Candice asked.
“Everything. You can never know too much. Lately I’ve been reading a lot about how the earth is actually flat,” Mitch said.
“What?”
“Yes,” Mitch said. “I’ve been checking out the Flat Earth Society site. Did you know that weather patterns are created by the land itself? For example, rain shadow. That’s where somewhere on the eastern side of a mountain range the area is deprived of rain. The clouds are forced upwards by the mountains blocking their path and becoming cooler and denser. Other weather patterns are created by where you are on the earth. The tropics are humid because they are surrounded by water which is constantly warming and evaporating.”
“Umm, that’s interesting,” Candice had replied.
The sex was mechanical but pleasurable enough, and that’s how it had all started. She saw him once a week or so, usually at his place, sometimes hers. She was never sure if she liked him or didn’t like him or how exactly she felt about him, but he fit into her life for the moment.
Now she was definitely not sure how she would fit him in her life.
***
As she ate her second slice of pizza, it began to disgust her. The cheese had started to stick to her mouth and it seemed too greasy. The sauce was too sweet. The toppings weren’t balanced correctly. It was all pineapple then too much jalapeño. When she bit into it, the front part of the slice was floppy and drooped. The crust was rubbery and she had to gnaw on it like a dog with a bone to get through it. Her stomach still rumbled with hunger when she was done with the second slice, but she could eat no more.
She had a decision to make. She would have to call him. That was the right thing to do. She had to tell him that she wasn’t keeping the baby. She picked up the phone and looked down at it.
His number came up quickly in her phone. The weeks of use made him seem more prominent. She dialed the number and thought to herself, what should I even say?
Chapter 2
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?”
“Hey how’s it going, Dad?”
“I’m okay. You?”
“I’m okay, too.”
“You sure? You don’t sound like it.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Candice said.
“Oh. Okay. Well, want to come over soon?”
“Sure,” Candice replied. “In a couple weeks?”
“Yeah if you come over in three weeks that should be good. My friend Alex is in town too. You can meet him. We can have a barbeque at the house,” her father said.
Candice had called her dad instead of Mitch. She wasn’t sure what she would say to her dad, she just wanted to hear a familiar voice.
“I’ll fly you down.”
“Okay.”
“Awesome. I’ll see you soon. Love you, Candice.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Instead of confronting her literally growing problem, Candice was retreating to her father’s house. It wouldn’t be for a few weeks but she felt somewhat better. She talked to him regularly, about once a week, never about anything important though. He didn’t really inquire that much, but she liked that he called her regularly. She wanted to be able to confide in him, but she couldn’t find the words.
She picked the phone back up and dialed.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello.”
“Yes, this is Candice Mitchell,” Candice said. “I’d like to book an appointment for tomorrow. I took a pregnancy test and the results came out positive. I don’t want to keep it.”
“Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem. You still have the same healthcare on file?”
“Yes. Still at the same address as well.”
“It looks like your regular doctor, Doctor Gerrity, is available in the morning, say 11 a.m. Does that work?”
“Sounds good.”
“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow at 11 a.m. then. Have a nice day in the meantime.”
“Thanks.”
Candice had made her appointment. The decision had been made to not carry out the pregnancy. It wasn’t a hard decision for her to make, but it wasn’t one that she had to make before. She still hadn’t told Mitch. She still wondered if she should.
She sank into the couch and watched as Kevin McCallister foiled the Wet Bandits in the movie. She snorted when Old Man Marley whacked the two bandits in the head with a shovel. She knew it was coming but still had a feeling of catharsis when it happened. She began watching Home Alone 2 but started to feel tired. She got ready for bed.
***
That night Candice dreamed of Mitch. He sneaked into her apartment. It was snowing out, even though they were still in Oakland. Mitch turned on all the faucets in the house.
“I’m going to fill the whole house with water,” he said to her over and over.
She ran after him, turning off the faucets, but he kept turning them back on. Soon her apartment was flooded.
She woke up with sweat running down her face. She walked into the bathroom and splashed water on her face.
“You still want to do this?” she said to her reflection.
Candice nodded to herself and walked back into her bedroom where she fell into a dreamless sleep.
***
The pizza sat on the kitchen counter until morning.
The sun’s rays hit her face and it was easy for her to get up. She woke before her alarm and made herself a cup of coffee. The aroma filled her nostrils and eased her.
She took her cup of coffee and sat by the window of her apartment in West Oakland. Outside the morning was starting. A man with a Pitbull walked down the street. Another man pushed his shopping cart towards the man with the dog. The canine sniffed at the homeless man and then seemed disinterested. The owner chatted briefly with the homeless man. Candice couldn’t hear what they were talking about.
When the cup of coffee was finished, she walked to her computer and logged into her email. She wrote a note that she wouldn’t be able to make it to work. There was nothing pressing for her to do anyways. As usual Candice was on track and on top of her projects. She had a few hours to kill before her doctor’s appointment, so she put on her running shoes.
She hadn’t gone running in a considerable amount of time. The morning air felt good. She felt fresh and revived as she ran down Seventh Street towards the Middle Harbor Shoreline Park. When she got there, she saw a few cranes by the water’s edge. The animals contrasted nicely with the mechanical cranes of the shipping yard nearby.
The park used to be part of the Naval Depot but it was closed in the late 1990s.
The area had been redeveloped in the early 2000s, and Candice could see the Bay Bridge from where she stood. She’d brought her phone with her and she walked over to a bench. She sat for a few moments taking it all in and then began her run back home.
Hot water touched her skin and washed away her body’s sweat. She felt good about her decision, and she felt revived. She washed her hair and came out of the shower fragrant.
Getting to the clinic was easy. She walked to the West Oakland BART Station and took it to the 40th Street Station and then walked a few blocks to the clinic. Candice came to the clinic for her regular checkups and gynecology visits. Her doctor, Sam, was a little older than her but had a good bedside manner.
She checked into the office and waited. There were a few other women in the clinic. One woman looked a bit apprehensive while another woman was a few months along. Her belly was extended outwards. The nervous woman looked at the pregnant woman repeatedly.
“What’s it like?” the woman finally said.
“What’s what like?”
“Pregnancy?”
“Your feet get swollen, your back hurts, you have to go to the doctor all the time,” the pregnant woman said.
“A lot of people say it’s the best experience of their lives,” the nervous woman said.
“If you like being in constant pain, it’s the best thing in the world.”
“So you aren’t experiencing the joys of childbirth?”
“Different people experience different things. I’m guessing you’re on the fence,” the pregnant woman said.
“Yeah,” the nervous woman replied. She walked over and picked up a magazine. She flipped through it and then set it down again.
“Well, I can’t tell you what to do. I had an abortion before. Just wasn’t time for me then. Now I feel better. I’m more ready now,” the pregnant woman said. She’d watched the nervous woman’s obvious agitation and had stayed calmly in her seat.
The nervous woman nodded.
“Candice,” the nurse called. The nurse had come from a back room. She was dressed in bright purple scrubs.
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