I begin my journey through life as an adult.
My name is Elizabeth Mary Madison, but very few people have ever called me Elizabeth other than my son Raymond, who only did so after he grew to be a man. I decided to write this story, the evening after Raymond and I returned from a Celebration of Life Ceremony at the community center and were preparing to scatter my father's ashes in the Pacific Ocean at the small private beach behind our home.
I grew up in the middle of Illinois, the only child of Charles and Olivia Madison, and Mother started calling me Libby when I was small. Because she was such a force to be reckoned with, no one ever corrected her. Mother, as I was told to call her as soon as I could talk, was a successful real estate saleswoman for Koch Realty, and Daddy was a hard-working Laborer and Cement Finisher, who always called me Baby or Sweetheart.
While Mother was always cold, aloof, and 'all business', Daddy was always kind and loving to me. When I hit puberty, he became very affectionate and much more attentive. I guess I should have known better, but because Mother treated me like I was an annoyance, I enjoyed being treated 'like a lady', as Daddy used to call it.
Growing up, my life seemed much like everyone else's that I knew until I graduated from Catholic grade school. I had a lot of friends at school and in our neighborhood, and we all played together after school, on weekends, and during the summer. This all changed when my mother noticed how much attention the boys were paying to me when she was a chaperone for the dance that was held after my 8
th
grade graduation, in the school gym.
Like most girls my age, my body had started to mature, but my boobs had developed much sooner and were larger than my girlfriends were. That night, when I was dancing with Bobby McFarland, I liked the way it felt when he rubbed his body against me and grabbed my butt. But when Mother saw him grabbing my boobs, she walked onto the dance floor, pulled him away from me and slapped his face. Then she dragged me out of the gym and drove us home.
When we got home, she took me into my bedroom and told me, "Good girls don't act like sluts," and told me to take off my dress. We sat on my bed, and Mother lectured me for hours, explaining the things to me she had 'omitted' from her sex talk six months before. She was very blunt and said that, "Boys cannot be trusted because they only want to make girls pregnant and ruin their lives." Then she explained the relationship between the penis and vagina to me and said that sex should only happen after marriage because girls who got pregnant before marriage would go to Hell!
Then she said, "I will not allow my daughter to become a slut, so from now on you will go to school at home. You will only be allowed to associate with people that I approve of and will not leave the house unless your father or I accompany you." Of course, my social life suffered after that, and what friends I was allowed to have were dull and as stiff as an ironing board.
For the next four years, I was taught at home by a succession of private teachers, Went to Mass every Sunday, and despite my seclusion (or perhaps because of it), I became a straight A student, scoring high enough on my college entrance exams to be admitted to a private ivy league women's only college.
My eighteenth birthday, May 22, 1998, fell on a Friday, so my parents were going to reward me by taking me out to a fancy restaurant for dinner to celebrate.
That morning, Mother and I left the house for a shopping trip, and I was bought all new clothes for that evening. Our first stop was a dress shop where she purchased beautiful new dress that showed some of my cleavage. Next, she took us to a fancy lingerie shop where she bought me a white lacy pushup brassier, that enhanced my 38DD's, lacy bikini panties, a garter belt and stockings to match. After that, we visited a shoe store and she bought me my first pair of high heels.
Finally, Mother took me to her beauty shop, where the beautician styled my hair and applied my makeup professionally. While we were driving home, I wondered, 'who is this woman, and what has she done to Mother'. Once home, she dressed me and squirted some of her best perfume, L'Air du Temps, on me in several places, behind my ears, on my wrists, and in the cleavage between my boobs. When we walked out of my bedroom, Daddy was waiting, wearing his best navy-blue suit. He told me how beautiful I was, and Mother agreed.
Then Mother went to her bedroom to get herself ready. When she returned, I thought she looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her in my life. Then she said something that made both Daddy and I very sad. She said she had received a call from her boss, Ralph Koch, saying she needed to accompany him on a business trip and had to leave right away. No sooner than she finished telling us, a horn honked in front of our house. She kissed me on the cheek, told me to be a good girl, and walked out the door where she got into the back of a black stretched Limousine.
As we watched the Limo pull away, Daddy said, "I'll take you out for your birthday Sweetheart, grabbed the keys of Mother's Seven series BMW, and drove us to the fanciest restaurant in town. I really enjoyed myself, because we both had Fillet Mignon and Petite Lobster Tails, drank Asti Spumante, and had Baked Alaska for dessert.
When we got home after dinner, I felt a little light-headed from the wine. Daddy sat me down on the living room couch, and said, "Sweetheart, since you are eighteen, that means that you are an adult now. Because you look like a grown-up woman, I want to make you feel like one too. He asked me to stand up and led me to my bedroom. When we got there, he took me in his arms and kissed me in a way I had never been kissed before. The kiss made me feel dizzy, and warm inside.
Then Daddy took off his coat, tie and shoes, and said, "Sweetheart, I am going to undress you now and give you the most important gift a father can give his daughter. I am going to make you a woman."
He went behind me and undid my dress. When It fell to the floor, he told me to step out of it. When I did, he hung it up in my closet. Then he took off his pants and shirt, and I saw a big bulge in the front of his boxers that looked like the one that Bobby was rubbing against me on the night of the graduation dance, only much larger.
He had me sit on my bed and took off my heels, stockings and garter belt. Then he asked me to stand, and when I did, he reached around me and unhooked my bra. When he took it off, I was very embarrassed because Daddy could now see my big boobies and I tried to cover them with my hands. Then Daddy squatted down and slid my panties over my hips and when they were at my feet, he told me to step out of them.
Daddy held my panties up to his nose, smelled them and said, "Sweetheart, your panties are soaking wet and they smell like Heaven." I dropped my hands and tried to cover my little Kitty that was covered with soft downy fuzz the same color as my red hair. When I felt the ooze coming out of Kitty, Daddy moved my hands and kissed her. When I looked up I could see myself in my dresser mirror. I saw that I was blushing beet red, the pink nipples on my boobies were big and hard, and my hands were holding Daddy's head between my legs.
