My boobs looked big on my tiny body, a C cup with small, puffy nipples. The sudden cool air made me shutter. I felt so exposed."Mmm, good girl. Now lo...er your legs a bit and spread them."I hesitated."Christina..." He growled menacingly.I did as I was told."Mmm, your pussy still looks nice and wet I see?" said Daddy, stepping closer. "Reach down there and touch it. Then lick off your fingers." W-what?" He just stared, so I did it. Just sitting there I could feel my pussy's wetness dripping down. For me it's far more personal.My dad and I never really got along. He didn't even want me, a fact I intuited (I think) pretty early; not until I was about eleven years of age did I really begin to grasp that.You see, all through my childhood, whenever I did something wrong -- which was pretty much every week -- my dad would say, "Shoulda been aborted, ya little weasel."Didn't matter what I did wrong, either. It could have been as serious as breaking his beer bottles (yeah, that happened a time. More

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