Dad Forces Me To Strip Down And Show Him My Virgin Teen Kitty-Cat


“ How about you give me a little show and make these off for me ?"pa gestured at the torn clothes that still attempted to cover my stripling consistency."I wan na see what I got myself here, if you're worth the trouble of re-educating. Maybe in the end no man would even want you,"he taunted.

Tight-lipped, not wanting to sass him for the"worth the problem"input and then land myself into an even crowing raft, I simply shook my head.

I didn't find confident in my consistency at all.

I wasn't one of those girls who could decease as a porno model, with thousands of Instagram followers and guy rope lining up to kiss my ass, literally and figuratively. My breasts were on the lowly incline and I was naturally slight - so much so, to the point my hip bones protruded and I looked a petty elvish.

But I was healthy, despite being so petite.

Desirable, or at least fuckable, well, that was a unlike thing. I was still a virgin, after all. No bozo had ever come knocking on mom's door to call for me to anything, ever.

"Obedient daughter don't say"no ”,"he growled.

dada crossed the infinite between us in two short minute, pulled on my shirt, tearing it straight up the middle, like it was made from spider silk - flimsy and delicate, same as me.

My wearing apparel were so torn now, I stood no probability of putting them back on after this was over. I prayed pop would have me something, anything at all, to get into, after this perverse review of his.

I wrapped my arms over my bare chest, but daddy tugged again, and suddenly there were no more barriers between us.

"Hmmm, no bra,"he murmured, then condemned me once more,"such a slut."

My skin was breaking into goosebump at his fiery touch. He was looking intently at me, as if he was appraising a part of art, all the patch he was running his knuckle over my tit, humming appreciatively. He stopped to cup and librate one of my breasts, kneading it, squeezing it, and it was hard to persist unmoved by his treatment of me. I let out a small moan and daddy backed away as if I'd cursed him.

"You can take the rest off,"he said, his phonation sounding a lilliputian weird.

"The rest ?"

"Yes, I wan na see your ass and cunt too, now get to it."

I was hesitating.

"I'm a little tired of your diddly-shit, you know ; I could get nasty. I could drag your ass out there and let them all have you stripped down and inspected for me. There are currently over fifty male in my army camp and none of them would pass up a gratuitous mountain pass review of a new female."

Resentful, I looked down at the floor and stood my background. I refused to submit myself to any to a greater extent physical review. I refused to come out will. I was not a slut. I had not given anyone any shit.

And the sorry of it, I was not… beautiful.

I felt trapped between a stone and a hard place. On one manus, I didn't want the others to see me naked. On the early, I couldn't let daddy check me either, and risk him finding me flawed or unappealing. Screw all the feminist ideals, there wasn't a woman on this earth who didn't want to hear that she was beautiful and desirable.

papa took a mysterious breath.

"Fuck this."

He seized me by the vertebral column of my neck as if gripping the scruff of a disobedient pet and threw me on my book binding across a wooden workplace bench. respective items clunked and clattered before falling onto the floor, meeting their ill-timed end.

I let out an involuntary scream of panic.

There was no more talking myself out of things, no more fighting. He was going to have his way with me, one way or another.

"ass show me that cunt, or I swear I will give you to wrick !"dada yelled.

"Please, don't !"

"Strip,"he said, a little calmer.

He lit a cigarette, watching me squirm before his imposing flesh. He was apparently satisfied with the quantity of reverence he had just instilled in me. He looked so menacing, so alpha, in this moment, I barely even dared to breathe. Unbidden, a retentivity of him disciplining me as a kid surfaced. He used to larrup me so hard, I couldn't sit for a week straight. Now I feared he would break me into musical composition like plywood over his knee, so I willed my mitt to stop shaking and I pulled down my pants, drogue and scanty. I let the items pile down on the trading floor and I used my hands to cover my tits and pussy.

"I said show me,"he breathed.

I closed my oculus and I climbed on top of the judiciary, bringing my human foot to rest upon its assail boundary. pa now had a clear eyeshot of me, all naked, all vulnerable, and at his mercy.

He came closer and leaned over my naked organic structure, blowing the smoke in my aspect, his teeth clenched in a triumphant grin.

"You're so lovely, all spread for me like that, fiddling slut,"he murmured, and with a quick jab of his mitt, he extinguished the smoldering butt against the tabular array, right future to my decoration. It was close enough that I could palpate its heat fading.

It was this intentional fille, the smell of burning wood, the proximity to danger, that fueled the realization that if I did want the well-situated way out, I had to submit, to obey, after all.

I didn't want to be hurt, and so I begged, appealing to our hereditary bond.

"Please, dad, don't hurt me, I'll be good, I'll be good, really !"

"Oh, I know you will, darlin ’,"he said, flicking the dead fag away onto the floor."Try causing deviltry when you're all spread out like that, naked and with all your holes on display for me to clean from, see what happens."

I let out a mewl.

Instead of being even more frightened by his news, I found I actually only disliked being physically hurt. But being made to strip and expose myself was starting to suit somewhat… hot. More so because papa seemed to drink in the tidy sum of me, as if he liked what he was seeing.

And daddy, well, he was no Rick. He did not necessitate to shell me into submission, all he had needed to do was be himself, his imposing, self-assured ego, whose simple presence commanded attention and obedience.

It was relatively slow to listen to him, despite a few hiccup here and there, like my insecurities.

"Are you a virgin ? Was that the problem, why you didn't want to show me your pussy ? Has no one else seen this little cute fuckhole of yours, so perfectly tiny, just waiting for someone's shaft to wreck it ? You're so pocket-size, you're going to cry no topic how ennoble your owner takes you,"he purred, his voice silky, wicked.

He had extended a hand towards my private and he was playing with my pulp there, making me sense a particular variety of good that was a footmark above what I currently felt I should be letting my pop do to me.

And the things he was saying were making my entire body blush with shame.

"Poor unacquainted little slut,"he mocked, and pinched my clit.

***

Hit me up on Smashwords, where I go by Hazel state of grace if you want even more stories about dad and their daughters .
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