The air in the sleazy motel room was thick with the scent of cheap disinfectant and dust, a smell that has been forever branded into my mind, right alongside the musky aroma of sex. As I rode the man beneath me, his hands gripping my hips tightly, my body moved with a practiced rhythm. His moans grew louder, matching the creaking of the old bed frame beneath us.
"Faster, baby," he grunted, his eyes shut tight in concentration.
I obeyed, increasing the speed of my thrusts as I felt his hands dig into my flesh. "Are you close, Daddy?" I cooed, throwing my head back and letting out a soft moan.
"Yeah, I'm about to cum," he panted.
I could feel the tension coiling in my belly, the familiar tingle that signaled my climax was near. With a few more fervent bounces, he let out a guttural groan as he came inside the condom. His pulsing cock sent me over the edge, and I rode out my orgasm until I felt utterly spent.
I collapsed onto his hairy chest, my body still tingling from the aftershocks. His heart pounded against my ear, a rhythm that should have been comforting but somehow felt cold and distant. I looked up at him, hoping for a hint of affection or connection, but his eyes were already scanning the room, not once meeting mine.
"Was I a good girl, Daddy?" I asked, trying to hold onto a semblance of romanticism in the aftermath.
He answered mechanically, "Yes, you were a good girl." Without giving me a chance to rest against him any longer, he pushed me off him gently but firmly.
He got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. The silence was such that I heard the sound of the condom being discarded and listened as the faucet turned on. I sat under the bedsheets, the cheap polyester fabric grazing my naked skin and making me feel increasingly exposed despite the modest cover.
When I checked my phone, I saw a string of missed calls and dozens of messages from my mom:
"Where are you?"
"Please call me back."
"It's late."
Over and over again. I sighed and decided to ignore her once more.
By now, I knew the routine well—the men would shower alone, dress quickly, and leave with a few sweet yet empty words. They'd often tell me that I could stay in the room for the rest of the night. As expected, I heard the sound of water stop, and the man emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.
"You've been amazing, sweetheart," he said with a half-hearted smile as he threw a couple of dollar bills on the dresser even after I had told him that wasn't needed. "You can stay here if you need to."
"Thanks, Daddy," I replied, forcing a smile that felt as fake as his words. He gave me a cursory nod and was immediately out the door.
Once he left, silence filled the room. I lay back on the cheap, scratchy bedsheets and stared at the stained ceiling. "What am I doing here?" I questioned myself. These men only wanted to use my body, yet here I was, seeking pleasure from such encounters. I had orgasmed two, maybe even three times tonight. So why did it all feel so hollow?
The tears started before I could stop them. They welled up in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. It had only been a few months since my first boyfriend, Jack, found out about my cheating with his best friend, Kent. The breakup was brutal—shouts, screams, and a torrent of tears. It wasn't even that I particularly liked Kent more than Jack; it was the thrill, the need for validation, the hunger for something more that had drawn me into that forbidden tryst. Since then, I had been on a self-destructive spiral—a roundabout journey seeking validation through the most immediate means at my disposal: sex.
I wiped away my tears and forced myself to refocus. I took out my phone again and opened the forums where I had been hooking up with men. A red dot indicated a new message. My heart fluttered a little at the prospect—a new message usually meant a new distraction from the hollow emptiness that seemed to consume me more and more.
I clicked on the message from a user named "DaddyDom36."
DaddyDom36: "Hey there, little girl. You free tonight?"
I quickly typed back, "Always for my Daddy."
DaddyDom36: "What are you up to?"
"Just at my usual place, chilling," I typed.
I decided to send him a provocative photo. Standing up, I posed naked against the dim light of the motel room. My heart-shaped face, framed by my short brown hair, showed innocence that contrasted sharply with the rest of my body. I snapped a picture of myself lying seductively on the bed, legs slightly parted, one hand resting on my small, perky breasts.
I attached the image and sent it with the caption, "Ready for my Daddy to come and make me cum."
The response was almost instantaneous. DaddyDom36: "Fuck, sweetheart, you look absolutely delicious. I can be there in an hour."
I felt a familiar thrill at his words. The familiar rush of excitement coursed through me. The validation from "DaddyDom36" made me feel alive again, at least for a moment. "I'll be waiting for you, Daddy," I responded. "The room number is 24 at the Red Roof Inn."
With a newfound spark, I decided to give myself a fresh start. I got up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. The harsh fluorescent lights reflected off the cheap tile, making my pale skin look almost ghostly. My round, green eyes stared back at me in the mirror, filled with a mix of anticipation and a nagging emptiness that never seemed to leave. As I stepped into the shower, I let the hot water wash away the memory of the previous man's touch until I felt a little more like myself again, though that "self" remained a complex puzzle I was still trying to solve.
I stepped out of the shower, the water still beading on my smooth, youthful skin, which had a natural, almost innocent glow despite everything. I dried off and curled up on the bed again, wrapping a towel tightly around me.
Waiting for "DaddyDom36," I reached for my phone once more. My social media feed was filled with friends and classmates posting about everyday, teenage things—study sessions, parties, family vacations. It made me feel even more disconnected from the person I used to be. For a second, a part of me longed for that normalcy again, to be just another girl worrying about homework instead of waiting for a stranger in a motel room.
But that part of me felt like a distant memory. Another part, one that seemed to grow louder with each passing day, craved the hardcore and degrading sex that made me feel something—anything—other than this lingering void.
Half an hour later, a knock sounded on the motel door. My heartbeat quickened. Sliding off the bed, I made sure the towel was wrapped securely around me and padded barefoot to the door. Peeking through the peephole, I could make out a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. I opened the door a crack.
"Hey, you must be Lia from the forums," he said with a broad grin. "Daddy's here."
"Hi, Daddy," I replied, trying to sound sweet and eager. "Please, come in." I stepped back and opened the door wider for him to enter.
He walked in, and the room suddenly felt a lot smaller. He was handsome in a rugged way, with a neatly-trimmed beard and a confident air about him. His eyes roamed over my towel-clad body appreciatively.
He closed the door behind him and took a step closer to me. "You look even better in person," he said, his voice low and teasing as his eyes fixed on mine. "Let's get a better look at you."
He reached out and gently tugged on the towel until it unraveled and fell to the ground, leaving me standing completely naked in front of him. I felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement.
"Such a perfect little body," he murmured, running his hands down along the curves of my slim figure. "Such a young, tight little thing." His hands cupped my small breasts, teasing my nipples until they hardened.
I let out a slight gasp, a mix of the cold air and his rough touch making me shiver. His dominant demeanor made my body respond instinctively, a familiar heat pooling in my lower abdomen.
"I need you to be a good girl for me," he said firmly. "Can you do that?"
"Yes, Daddy," I answered, my voice already more breathless.
"Good girl. I need you to show me how eager you are. Get on your knees," he ordered.
I obeyed immediately, dropping to my knees in front of him. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his already semi-hard cock. I looked up at him through my lashes as he used one hand to stroke himself until he was fully erect.
"Such a pretty little mouth," he said, tucking one hand under my chin and tilting my face up. "Open up."
I opened my mouth and extended my tongue slightly, allowing him to place the tip of his cock on it. He pushed in slowly until I felt the full length of him in my mouth. His hands wove themselves into my hair, gently directing me as he began to thrust carefully at first, but increasingly more forcefully until I felt him hitting the back of my throat.
I focused on breathing through my nose while trying to make it as pleasurable for him as I could, trying to show him what a good little girl I could be. He groaned deeply and tightened his grip on my hair, a sign that what I was doing was working.
After a few minutes, he pulled out. "Stand up," he commanded.
I did as he ordered and was immediately spun around. He pressed his body against my back as his hands roamed possessively over my curves once more. One hand reached around to grip my right breast while the other found its way between my legs.
"You're already so wet, aren't you, baby girl?" he observed, his fingers teasing my entrance.
"Yes, Daddy," I moaned.
"Good," he breathed into my ear. "You’re a proper little slut." His words should have stung, but instead they sent another jolt of arousal through me.
"Are you on birth control?" he asked.
"I’m on the pill," I replied truthfully.
“Perfect,” he said with a grin.
He turned me around again and guided me towards the bed. “Bend over the edge, baby girl.”
I positioned myself as instructed, leaning over the edge of the bed until my round, pale ass was exposed. His large hands massaged my butt cheeks for a moment before one hand came down in a hard, stinging spank.
"Ah!" I cried out in surprise and pain mixed with a perverse pleasure.
"Such a round and spankable ass," he said, delivering another hard slap. The pain made me arch my back, and another moan escaped my lips."
He continued spanking me until my ass was a blotchy pink. The pain was intense, yet it only made me more aroused. Finally, he stopped, and I felt the head of his cock pressing against my wet entrance. With one forceful thrust, he buried himself entirely in me.
I let out a long, low moan at the sensation of being filled so completely. He grabbed onto my hips and began thrusting into me with a fervor that made the bed creak. His heavy, labored breaths echoed in my ear along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he panted. "Such a little whore, taking it so well."
"Yes, Daddy, I’m your little whore," I panted back, my own words driving my arousal higher.
He alternated between deep, slow thrusts and rapid, hard ones until I was a quivering mess. Finally, he pulled out and flipped me onto my back. He lifted my legs up and apart and thrust back into me.
I could feel the tension coiling inside me once again. His cock hitting that spot deep within made it impossible to hold back any longer.
"Look at me," he demanded.
I opened my eyes and met his hard gaze.
"Who makes you feel like this?" he asked, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
"You do, Daddy!" I moaned.
He slammed into me a few more times until I was on the brink of orgasm.
"Let yourself go, little one," he urged. "Cum for me."
His final command pushed me over the edge. My orgasm crashed over me, and I cried out, my body shuddering as the waves of pleasure made me forget everything.
He gave a few more thrusts before he stilled and groaned loudly as he came deep inside me. The feeling of his hot seed filling me exacerbated the lingering aftershocks of my own climax.
For a few moments, he stayed inside me, panting heavily until he finally pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside me.
"You did so well, baby girl," he said, his voice still rough with desire.
"Thank you, Daddy," I replied, already feeling the familiar hollowness returning even as my body continued to tingle with the afterglow.
"You need a ride home?" he asked after a few minutes of heavy breathing.
"No," I said truthfully. "I can handle it."
He nodded and got up. "You should get dressed, sweetheart. I need to get going."
He dressed quickly and, just like the man from earlier, made his way to the door once he was ready. He handed me a crisp hundred-dollar bill as he did. "You were amazing," he said one last time, before leaving me alone once again.
The next morning, as dawn light filtered through the motel's shabby curtains, I dressed in my regular clothes—a white off-shoulder top that hung loosely on my petite frame, a black pleated skirt that fluttered around my thighs, and a pair of black tights complemented by white socks and black high-top sneakers. I slung a black backpack over my shoulder and made my way out of the motel room.
When I got home, my mother was already up and waiting for me. Her eyes were filled with worry and a hint of anger.
"Where were you last night, Lia?" she demanded.
"Just at a friend's house," I replied casually.
"Lia, you need to be more responsible," she scolded. "I was so worried."
"I know, Mom, I’m sorry," I said, although my voice lacked real remorse.
"Go get ready for school," she sighed.
Heading to my room, I wondered if anyone at school could tell what I had been doing last night. Would they see it in my eyes or in the way I walked? Would they detect a hint of the shadows that seemed to fill me?
But as I walked through the school doors later that morning, everything seemed normal. Friends greeted me with smiles and chatter. For a fleeting moment, I could almost pretend that I was just another girl, one who hadn't been frantically seeking validation in the arms of strangers.
But that was the thing about masks—they were only skin deep. The true me lay hidden beneath, still in search of something that felt real and not like the empty, shallow high of a one-night stand.
