"Annie, this inattentiveness in class is very uncharacteristic of you. Are you troubled by something?" I ventured. Annie had an excellent school record and, as the guidance counselor assigned to her High School class, I wanted to determine if there was a problem that would interfere with the pretty freshman's education.

"No, sir. In fact, everything is wonderful. I was just daydreaming, and I promise it won't happen again."

"Well, I'm sure it won't, but if you have a problem in the future, please share it with me right away so that we can help you any way we can. Ok?"

"Sure, Mr. Chevilleraide. Um, can I go now?"

"Certainly, dear."

She stood, catching her books as they nearly slipped from her arms, then turned and left my office closing the door behind her.

I had risen from behind my desk as she was leaving the room and stepped around to stand next to her chair. I took in the faint aroma that lingered and smiled at the sweet scent. Then I noticed it. One of those ubiquitous black composition books was leaning against the left rear leg of the chair Annie had been occupying. I picked it up, saw her name and the word "PRIVATE" inscribed on the cover and was about to follow her and return it. Something, I don't quite know what, stopped me.

I focused my attention on the notebook. It was worn and well-used, and from the condition of the page edges, quite obvious that it contained a good deal of writing. "Perhaps I can learn something of this girl," I thought to myself, walking to my office door to latch it securely against the event of her returning to look for it.

I sat down on the sofa and made myself comfortable.

Annie's Story

I wanted him to do it ever since I was 12. Mama had died only a month before. Papa had said, right after her funeral, "You have to be the woman of the house now." I knew he meant that I would be responsible for cleaning, and laundry, and meals, and all that stuff, but only after I had thought about it for awhile did I want it to mean so much more. I did a good job for Papa, Mama had shown me how to keep house to please him, and the younger girls, Emily and Patty, even though they were only 8 and 9 years old, were a big help to me.

Mama had explained 'things' to me so I knew what to expect even from the very beginning of the changes that happen as girls grow up. Mama knew she was very sick and made sure that she told me as much as possible while she had the time. I remember her telling the three of us that if Papa were to find a new wife, even if we girls didn't like her very much, that we should still treat her with kindness and respect. I asked her privately later why that was so important and she explained about a man's needs and that we girls would be wrong to place obstacles in the path of Papa having his needs met.

But after Mama left us, I began to wonder why I couldn't fulfill Papa's needs - why couldn't I be 'the woman of the house' in every respect. As time went on, and Papa showed no signs of trying to find a new wife, I became more and more convinced that I was right to want what I wanted.

One night, about three months after Mama passed away, I got out of bed in the middle of the night and went into my Papa's bedroom. He was snoring softly, so I just carefully and quietly climbed in bed with him. He didn't wake up, even when I snuggled my bottom up against his belly, with only the thin material of my nightgown separating my naked bottom from his bare belly - and his man thing.

The next morning, he shook me awake and wondered what I was doing in his bed. I explained that I had a bad dream and that I just came and climbed in with him. He gave me a hug and a kiss on my cheek, but told me that it really wasn't proper for me to be in his bed because he always slept naked. Of course, I protested, telling him that I've seen him all bare naked lots of times and that it shouldn't matter. I snuggled my belly tightly up against his, and I heard a sharp intake of breath. I felt him poking me in the tummy, and it wasn't with his finger!

I kissed him on his lips, and tried to explain how I thought I should do ALL of a wife's duties. At first he was shocked, but after telling him how much I loved him, and giving him several un-daughter like kisses, he calmed down a bit. He was adamant that he wouldn't do 'IT' to me though. He said that twelve was just way too young. My conversations with Mama, especially the one where we discussed ways to avoid getting a baby in one's belly, gave me the idea that there were ways to give Papa what he needed that didn't require me to be any older than I presently was.

Incessant nagging over the next few nights finally caused Papa to see that I was right. I guess I took a chance that he might have given me the strap across my bare bottom and ordered me never to mention the subject again. But instead he gave in and showed me how to use my hands to give him what he called "the most exquisite delight." The first time, when he finished - spending or cumming, he called it - his creamy emission splattered all over my nightie and I had to work hard scrubbing it to get it clean the next day. So after that, I always took off my night dress and got in bed all naked with him. The first time I did that, I was worried that he wouldn't like my little body because it didn't have the bumps and curves or the nice curly patch at the bottom of my belly like Mama had, but he told me that he actually enjoyed my body better than a full grown woman and that looking at me gave him "pleasure beyond measure." I was so flattered that I got up out of bed, turned on all of the lights in the room and danced around posing for him. Papa didn't bother covering his nudity while I did this and I could see right away that he enjoyed my little impromptu presentation.

This time, his seed spurted on to my belly and the little bumps that signaled the very beginning of my transition to womanhood. Of course, I was delighted with the result and spent more than a few minutes while Papa caught his breath playing in the glutinous cream with my fingers.

We continued this game for some weeks. I would wait until Emily and Patty were fast asleep and then I would sneak down to Papa's room. We would kiss and toy and play until I was rewarded with the warm sweet proofs of his love covering my petite torso. But one evening, I took hold of him but did not begin the exciting up and down motions required to bring him on.

As I held his throbbing member, I told him that Mama had mentioned, but not fully explained, something about using her mouth to give him ease. He looked shocked and tried to make up something, but I saw that he wasn't being completely honest. I pressed him, actually holding his enjoyment hostage by refusing to move my hand, and he gave in, giving me a brief explanation of the process of fellatio. I couldn't wait to try it, so I scooted myself down on the bed and put my mouth over the crown of his instrument. His long, low groan of pleasure was my reward and his answer to the question running through my head, "Do I do it correctly, Papa?"

I wasn't using my mouth for very long when Papa barked a warning that he was about to "cum" and put his hands on the side of my head attempting to pull my mouth off of the dear fleshy tube. I refused to be budged, and redoubled my efforts with tongue, lips, and mouth. I did not have long to wait. His entire body went rigid and his man thing (he calls it his 'cock' or 'prick', but I preferred, at the time, to play the lady and avoid using such vulgar terms for his dear beloved thing) gushed across my tongue and quickly swallowed to avoid gagging. I was somewhat surprised at the quantity of his emission and a bit disappointed at my inability to quite swallow all that he gave me. Fortunately, Papa was rather proud of me for swallowing as much as I did, and told me that he was delighted to see a bit running down my chin. He told me Mama would allow some to escape the corners of her mouth when she pleasured him in that way just for his enjoyment.