A long, loose fitting black robe, safety pinned together at the collar to keep the zipper from popping open. My strappy sandals peeking out underneath. The awkward graduation cap flattening my straight black bangs against my slightly damp forehead.
My classmates and I were packed into the hallway just outside the noisy gymnasium, pressed close in the humidity while class leaders took roll one last time, and reminded us to perform our march carefully, and to wait for our names to be called, and no funny business with the beach balls and silly string many of us were literally hiding up our sleeves. My round, pale face hovered over my shadowy figure when I caught sight of my reflection in a trophy display case near the gym entrance. My dark, almond shaped eyes and round cheeks were counted among my numerous insecurities, both traits inherited from my father's side. The entrance song picked up then, and we filed into the graduation ceremony, the boys self-importantly puffing up their chests, the girls sauntering in our big-girl heels despite the dumpy robes we wore over carefully selected, short-skirted graduation dresses.
Mine was a simple white sun dress. I also wore the new necklace my father left on my vanity for me that morning. The note said "Congrats princess." A small silver circle suspended on a long silver chain. The circle was engraved with very delicate lettering, "Daddy's Girl." I blushed when I read it.
I wasn't a little kid anymore, yet my father never seemed to notice how grown up I had become. He was always calling me embarrassing names like princess, little girl or baby girl. I thought it was nice when I was younger, but ever since middle school, it made me feel almost angry at him. In middle school, bullies started calling me a slut because I developed early. Girls teased me viciously when I was the first of my friends to need a bra, and it only got worse as I grew curvier by highschool. By my eighteenth birthday, my otherwise petite body was, by my standards, totally ruined by my 34DDDs. I felt like a total freak, I even dreamed about saving money to get a breast reduction surgery so I could look like a slender gymnast instead of some pervert's dakimakura girl.
Yet my father kept treating me like a little kid. He would insist on reading me bedtime stories, coaxing me into snuggling on the couch while watching movies, or offering me his lap instead of the chair when we would read together in his study. I knew he meant well. He just didn't understand what I was dealing with, I never talked about how I was bullied when I was at home. To my parents, it seemed like I was just shy, and modest. Which I was, but it was all because my body brought too much unwanted attention. In fact, I never even accepted a date with a boy, not even to prom. I just felt more comfortable being shy, than actually facing the possibility of a boy seeing and touching me. I was too embarrassed, no matter what my father said about me being a "beautiful princess."
Looking at that silver necklace, I had to admit that my father must love me very much. Even though his pet names were corny, it was comforting to know that graduation wasn't changing that I was special to him. It was bittersweet knowing that the end of high school meant my last summer at home. I was leaving for college in just a few short months. I felt silly, but I wore the necklace to my graduation ceremony as a kind of good luck charm for the last night I would have to face my grade-school bullies. The long chain was helpful—I tucked the silver circle between my massive breasts and knew for sure that no one would spot the secret message from my "Daddy."
The ceremony went just as perfectly as planned, even with the banned beach balls bouncing over the crowd. Afterwards, all the families spilled out of the school and onto the front lawn, and I quickly found my parents in the crowd. My mom was looking all around at the other students and families, oblivious to whether I was friends with any of these people or not because she travels very often for work. Meanwhile, my father was holding his arms open for me. Caught up in all the excitement and festivity of the occasion, I gleefully ran to him. But then, I felt my safety pin pop loose! My graduation gown unzipped as my cleavage bounced against the flimsy closure, and the necklace peeked out. My father didn't seem to mind at all, scooping me into a big bear hug. I felt my breasts press hard against his chest, against the now-open pin! It stung so bad I cried out a little, yet something strange happened as well. Feeling the pressure of his chest against mine, smelling his cologne, the scratch from the pin, and the secret necklace nestled between us, its long chain pulling on my neck...
My father's embrace made me feel wet between my legs.
My father drove us home in his company car, which we usually took when we went out as a family. My parents really only owned my mother's car, but I think they considered the company car more impressive, even though they had to pay for the gas. They seemed to show it off whenever they could. I was in the backseat, staring at my hands. My nails were painted with silver specks of glitter. My mother chattered about how nice the ceremony had been, and how she was happy she could make it. She would be flying out for business again early tomorrow morning, since she had come home just for my graduation. I wasn't expected to reply, she was just chatty as a habit. My father fiddled with the radio, stopping to listen to each station, but never settling on one long enough to finish a whole song.
I could feel my cotton panties sticking to my pussy lips, sticky with my own juice.
At home, I hugged my mom goodbye for the next morning, kissed my father's cheek, and excused myself to take a bath and go to bed early. Considering I had to spend a long day at the final graduation rehearsal, and then all the excitement at the ceremony, my parent's didn't mind. I felt relieved to sneak off to the refuge of my room, which had its own bathroom.
Being an only child, I will be the first to admit I am extremely spoiled. My parents have always given me more than I needed, but especially my father. It was his idea that I should have the master bedroom and bath, and he and my mom share the bedroom next door to mine. There's a family bathroom across the hall from their room, which they share, yet I have the private bathroom with the Jacuzzi tub. With mom traveling so much, maybe they figured I can use it more often than her. My father always showers, anyway.
My room is decorated with, what else, a frilly princess theme. I have a queen size bed with a pink ruffled canopy, white quilted bedding, and lush white carpeting. My vanity has a big round mirror framed by small round lightbulbs. Don't judge me, but I love sitting at that vanity and imagining I'm a vintage movie star... Sometimes I even imagine I'm waiting on a mysterious lover to sneak into my dressing room! As much as I am shy around real boys, in the privacy of my room, I have a lot of fantasies about imaginary lovers. Especially secret ones, don't ask me why! Other than being a movie star, I like imagining myself as Juliet waiting for Romeo—the Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio version, from the movie! Don't worry—I know I am very lame. I guess it's just hard to imagine something more realistic, being so inexperienced myself.
As I filled my bathtub and stripped off my clothes, I looked at my body in the bathroom mirror. My fat nipples were dark and hard. I absentmindedly pinched one while I slid my other hand down my body to my shaved pubic mound. I liked to rub the smooth skin there. Watching myself in the mirror still, I spread my pussy lips open with two fingers, and glared at the glistening wetness. What was wrong with me?
