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The first day in my new Daddy’s house, I come downstairs in the simple gray tracksuit I find laid out on my bed. Daddy greets me at the bottom of the stairs. “What about a hug and a kiss for your Daddy?” I’m pretty wary, but he seems true to his word – he just gives me a quick squeeze, and a peck on the cheek, which I return. I spend all day lazing around on cable TV and reading fashion magazines which he’s thoughtfully provided for me. When he comes home from work, we sit at the dinner table together, and then he gives me another hug and kiss before bedtime.

The second day is the same. The third, the fourth – they start to blend together. He seems like he really is a pretty good guy. He even brings me some new magazines, and a milkshake Friday night from a takeaway joint in town. Morning and night, it’s the same hugs and kisses.

One day, I’m not sure which, I’ve lost count – during our morning hug and kiss, he surprises me by kissing me on the lips, and forcing my mouth open to push his tongue into my mouth. He’s pinned my arms with one of his, and he uses his other hand to clasp the back of my head and keep me from escaping his kiss. I can feel the hardness between his legs start to grow, and then finally he lets go of me. I’m gasping for breath. He smiles at me. “Good morning sweetheart.”

The day continues as normal, though I’m now wary of him again, and trying to avoid being too close to him. When it’s time for a bedtime hug and kiss, it’s a repeat of the morning, and though I try to pull away right after pecking him on the cheek, he grabs me again, holds me to him, and I feel the heat and wetness of his tongue probing and licking my mouth. I freeze in place, and again I feel his hardness against my tummy. He lets me go, pats me on the cheek, and says, just like always, “sweet dreams babygirl.”

The next morning, it’s the same. The new normal. I stand rigid in front of him, and get pulled to him by my wrist. He wraps himself around me, kissing me slowly, leisurely, like a lover. He releases me, “good morning, sweetie.” That night when I stand indecisively, wondering if I could just slide out of the room, I hear, “come give your Daddy a hug and a kiss.” I slowly walk to him, and again, his tongue deep in my mouth, til I feel I could choke. “There now, you’re going to have sweet dreams tonight!” I stumble out of the room.

The next day I debate not coming out of my room at all. But what happens if he comes in to me? Do I want to get him angry? I come downstairs. I stumble over to him, dreading his tongue, his touch.