I was all pink and clean from a good tubbing. My nipples were hard with excitement, and I could see my ribs moving with every anxious breath. My tummy...was fluttering, though that was only on the inside.Daddy, of course, was downstairs watching TV and reading the newspaper, totally oblivious to my anxiety. He would only find out about my display after the ball was over, presenting him with, as Mademoiselle Duclos would say, a fait accompli.I wondered if she was going to be there at the dance as. I lean into him, enjoying his subtle musk. Somehow it smells a little like both of us. The storm eases, and I look up into his fathomless brown eyes. “What question? And what choice?”A choice is a novel thing these days. I’m realizing that I haven’t had one in a very long time. Not about my activities, my work, my partner. It’s all been arranged and planned, right down to my food. And my mental stability, taken away at the whim of someone I knew and had no reason not to trust.“Do you want to. More

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