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Baby Doll

By: papaya_lynne



Authors Note: My third story…please read my others and remember, comments are always more than welcome!

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As usual we were both laying in bed, each of us wearing one of your old oversized T-shirts. I was reading and you were busy typing away on your new laptop. I finished the chapter, turned my lamp off and snuggled down under the big comforter to sleep. You had other ideas. 

You shut down the computer, turned off your lamp, snuggled down under the comforter and slowly wrapped your arm around my waist and pulled me closer to you. Because we both sleep on out right side, this caused my body to move right back into yours. I could feel the beginning of a very nice hardon lightly poking into my ass and I couldn't help but let out a little giggle. 

"Well now what was that giggle for?" you asked in a seductive whisper as you snaked your hard up underneath the light fabric of the T-shirt and across my stomach. 

"Oh nothing" I said, smiling as I wiggled closer to you, rubbing against your growing cock. Apparently you weren't expecting such boldness from me because you let out a soft groan as I wiggled against you and in return moved your hand up to one of my breasts and began to gently kneed at it and lightly kisses the back of my neck, knowing just where to kiss to make little moans escape my lips. 

We lay there like that for a few minutes until I couldn't stand it anymore. I could feel your cock growing harder and harder and I pressed back into you and I just had to feel that marvelous cock for myself. I gently eased your hand out from under the T-shirt, slipped it off over my head and turned to face you. I smiled seductively at you and kissed you passionately as I slipped my hand down your chest, over your abdomen and down to your waiting cock. You moaned softly into the kiss as I gently wrapped my hand around your cock and began to slip my thumb across the head, which was already covered with your salty precum. 

As we kissed I slowly eased you onto your back and broke the kiss to pull your T-shirt over your head and throw it on the floor next to mine. I straddled your body and began kissing my way across your collar bone, down your chest, flicking my tongue over each of your delicious nipples, down your stomach, swirling my tongue around your navel before kissing lower, down to your groin, where I carefully kissed all around your hard cock. 

I kissed and licked at your balls and all around the base of your cock until you made a small whimpering noise and thrust your cock up to my mouth. I smiled up at you and carefully took your cock in my hand and flicked my tongue out across the head. You moaned softly and I rewarded your verbalized pleasure by lowering my mouth over the head of your cock and sucking gently. You responded by thrusting upwards again, pushing your cock farther into my mouth. I worked up a rhythm, moving my mouth up and down over the top half of your cock, sucking hard on the upstroke and pumping my hand at the base of your cock in time with the sucking. 

As your quick little groans became louder I increased the speed of my mouth and my hand. Sucking harder and pumping faster swirling my tongue around the head of your cock every now and then. I could feel you on the edge, about to cum and I pulled your cock quickly from my mouth. 

You looked down at me with a look on your face that reminded me of a little boy whose puppy has run away. I smiled up at you and said, "I don't want to waste all that yummy cum in my mouth, I want to feel you cum inside me." You smiled at me and made a small growling noise in the back of your throat as I moved up your body to kiss you deeply.

We lay there kissing for a few moments before you began to ease me over onto my back knowing I always prefer you to fuck me in the missionary position. You kissed me softly and positioned your body between my legs, which were shaking in anticipation. Then, instead of plunging your cock deep into my aching pussy, you slipped your hand down between my legs and started sliding your finger up and down my wet slit. I moaned and moved against your hand, hoping to give you the hint of just how badly I needed you. 

Unfortunately, you didn't take the hint, you just kept sliding your finger up and down my slit, not entering me or sliding up far enough to touch my aching clit. I finally gave up and cried out, "God just fuck me. I can't stand it anymore!" 

You smiled up at me and said, "As you wish," with a silly grin on your face. You slipped your hand away from my practically dripping pussy and kissed me deeply as you positioned your hard cock at the entrance of my hot cunt and slowly slid inside me. I moaned as I felt you move within me and kissed your cheek in a silent thank you. You eased slowly back out of my pussy and plunged deeply back inside making me arch my back of the bed, bringing you even deeper inside me. 

You picked up a steady rhythm, pulling out slowly and then plunging your hard cock deep into my hot pussy. It felt so wonderful I never wanted it to end, but you were swiftly picking up speed and I knew it wouldn't be very long until you would cum into me, and oh how I yearned to feel you cum inside me. 

"Oh yes, that's it baby, fuck me, fuck me baby, fuck me harder, ohhhhh yes fuck me, fuck my cunt, yes, yes, oh baby I need you to fuck me hard, oh, oh that's it baby, fuck me deep, yes, yes, harder, that's it, oh God, fuck me baby, fuck me, FUCK ME!!!" I screamed as you plunged deeper and deeper into my hot cunt until you finally groaned and pushed your hard cock even deeper inside my hot pussy and let loose a hot geyser of cum inside me. "MMMMMM baby you feel so good" I murmured in your ear as you slowly relaxed and laid down on top of me, leaving your cock inside me for a bit knowing how much I enjoy feeling you inside me.

Once you regained control of your breathing you knelt above my body, smiled down at me and said, "Now was that what you were wanting?" I grinned wickedly at you and whispered, "Oh maybe" You gave me a self satisfied look and said, "Well I think I'll just give you a little extra to tide you over for the rest of the night," then you bent down and kissed me before I could respond. That kiss was so full of passion and hunger that I released a loud moan into your warm mouth that I didn't even know I'd been holding back. 

When you finally broke that passionate kiss I was so worked up that you had to hold my hands down as you ever so slowly kissed along my collar bone, down my chest, leaving soft wet kisses on each of my nipples, down my stomach, flicking your tongue in and out of my navel, and then down to leave a soft kiss on each of my inner thighs, which now framed your handsome face. It seemed like an eternity before you slipped your tongue down to slip gently across my throbbing clit, and when you did I rewarded you with a loud moan of pleasure. 

You looked up at me and smiled, "You like that huh baby?" I bit my lip and moaned again in response, to busy relishing that single feeling to use words. You kissed the inside of my thigh tenderly and were it not for your hands holding mine down I would have pulled your head back up to my throbbing pussy. 

I lay there moaning for you to eat me until you finally slipped your tongue slowly into my aching cunt. I moaned loudly and moved my hips up to meet your warm tongue as you wiggled it wildly inside my needy pussy. With your miraculous tongue working wonders inside me it didn't take long until I was pushed to the hilt. "Oh god baby that's it, eat me, eat my pussy, yes baby yes, oh yes, oh God yes, yes, yes oh baby yes, that's it baby, eat my pussy baby, oh God yes, oh yes, yes yes yes, oh God, Oh God, yes, Oh God I'm CUUUMMMMIIIINNNNNNNGGGGG" I screamed as my body spasmed with an orgasm so incredibly intense that my legs clenched around your head so tightly that I thought I'd crack your skull open. 

As the waves of the orgasm subsided I slowly eased my legs apart and you slowly moved up my body to kiss me passionately. "I love you so much baby doll, thank you for letting me make you happy," you said as you held me close to you. 

I kissed your shoulder softly and whispered, "I love you too sweetie, and you don't have to thank me." 

Just as I was on the brink of sleep I heard you whisper, "Sleep well baby doll," and then you gently pulled me closer to you and rested your head against my back and fell asleep.

Baby Doll



AN: For my incest readers, this is an entry into Literotica's National Nude Day Contest. So please show some love for our favorite genre and remember to vote! Votes, comments and feedback of all kinds are always appreciated. - Carnal 

NB: There's a lot of Daddy/Baby Girl role play in this, so if that's not your thing...

"Hey, Baby Doll!"

"Aw, gorgeous, show us that beautiful smile!"

"Come on, Cassie, look sexy for the camera!"

The flashbulbs and light meters go off like a thousand stars, all around me, nearly blinding me but I'm used to it by now. I know how to work a crowd. I toss them a dazzling smile, flinging my long hair, pushing out my breasts—not too much, not too far, just enough to be enticing. I know my best angles. I know how to pose, how to gaze in just the right way. I know my own power and I turn it on with skill and ease. 

I hold still, and smile; my blue eyes innocent and wide. Time stops. Sounds fade away.

All the flashing lights suddenly merge into one bright space where I am silent and alone and thinking of you.

No one knows my secret. The cameras cannot penetrate my heart. 

I feel closest to you in moments like this, when I'm giving my body to the world. We both know there is only one man I'm thinking of. Only one man making my heart beat faster and my nipples harden under my dress.

Just you. 

If they only knew. If anyone knew. The thought brings a new sparkle to my eyes. I wet my lips and flash an even more dazzling smile, only this time it's just for you.

Daddy.

I know you'll see me. I know what you'll be thinking.

I can't wait to get home to you.

I will see you soon. 

Xoxoxo,

Baby Doll

+++

Cassie Stevens grew up the only girl in a house full of men—her dad Larry, and three older brothers Jake, Joe and Josh. 

People always thought she should be a Jennifer or a Julie, but she was Cassie, short for Cassandra. Her mother picked this name out of a baby book in the waiting room of her gynecologist because she "thought it was pretty." She didn't tell Cassie this; she died in a car accident when her daughter was a year old. Cassie was with her at the time, but her baby seat saved her. When they found her, she was hanging upside down and screaming, hurt, but alive.

Naturally she was too young to remember. This all came to her by way of family legend, through "the story" whispered at dinners and reunions, and the way she was treated just a bit differently than everyone else.

She was the one who survived and she was the only girl. Somehow, these two things became linked, for her and everyone else. The shadow of tragedy followed her around, the ghost of her mother somehow always there and part of who she was. Being a girl felt like she always had a fragile halo around her head. She may as well have had angels' wings.

She looked the part. She was a gorgeous child, as perfect and exquisite as a porcelain doll. She had her mother's looks—her lustrous red hair, creamy complexion, blue eyes, and adorable pink lips. 

So to say she was spoiled and coddled and fawned over is an understatement. She was the pet of three brothers who absolutely adored her. Her dad was less demonstrative, but she knew she was his everything. No one would ever mess with a hair on his precious angel's head. She never knew anything but love and kindness from them, and she grew up, happy and content, into a beautiful girl. 

They lived in a small town in New Jersey sandwiched between two larger, wealthier ones, about 20 miles from Manhattan. By the time she graduated from high school she was a Jersey girl, through and through. Her dad, Larry, owned a landscaping business. Years ago, when her mother died, he was just an employee, but now, 18 years later, he was doing quite well. He had over 100 employees of his own, mostly day laborers, and managing them and the business side of things now took up most of his time. Their part of New Jersey was not exactly lacking in huge mansions with extensive grounds—they didn't call it the "Garden State" for nothing. 

Larry did well enough that they had a summer home on the shore, in addition to the old rambling house in the sort-of country, at least as far as Jersey goes. It was a big place, faux-Victorian, with a widow's walk and a few turrets, and many additions built on over the years. At the back of the property he'd built an entire one-bedroom apartment atop an old stone garage. Usually it was rented out, but not this summer. 

Everyone said Larry Stevens was a great guy. A hard worker. A self-made man, always had your back. Reliable, dependable, and smart. But he was quiet, and kept to himself.

Cassie couldn't remember quite when it happened, exactly, but at some point she got in the habit of just calling him Larry. One day she woke up and thought "I'm too old to keep calling him Daddy." She would have called him "dad," but that was her brothers' name for him, and she wanted to be different. So "Larry" it was.

He had the landscaping business, but he also had a gardening store right next door to their house. There was a greenhouse and an attached shop, where Cassie worked. Half the time she was weeding, potting, trimming and watering; the other half she was at the front register.

And that's where this story really starts.

It was the end of June. Cassie was 18, and about to turn one year older. She had graduated from high school, a year later than most, and was due to start college in the fall. She wasn't looking forward to it. She had no freakin' clue what to do with her life. 

Two of her brothers were living at home and working for her dad; the oldest, Jake, was in business school, getting an MBA. Josh and Joe were outside late in the day on a Friday, and she was hoping to close up soon.

She was just sitting at the counter, twirling her hair, absorbed in a magazine. She was looking at Vogue. God she loved it.

It wasn't exactly true that Cassie didn't know what to do with her life. She had an idea, but it seemed too ridiculous to even consider. She looked at Vogue because she liked looking at the models. It was kind of a secret thing. She'd look at them and study them knowing "I could do that." It was the single thing she could think of doing with her life at the moment. But it seemed like such a pipe dream, and so dumb, so mindless. Who becomes a model—stupid girls. Yet she couldn't stop looking and wondering. 

She knew she was pretty. She knew she had the body for it. Her girlfriends were always telling her she should try it. She knew she could make money at it, too, if she was good. And the thought of using her own money to not know what to do with her life was a hell of a lot better than wasting Larry's.

It was such a silly idea. 

Yet she looked. She looked and looked. She couldn't stop looking. 

And there she was, looking, imagining herself in those pages, sitting at the counter twirling her hair, when she heard a soft "tap, tap, tap."

She thought she might have imagined it, but then she heard it again, closer this time. "Tap, tap, tap."

She tore her eyes away from the glossy pages a few inches, and her gaze fell on a woman's hand tapping her fingernails on the counter. The nails were filed into sharp points, and painted a startling blood red. 

Her eyes traveled upwards and she found herself looking into one of the strangest faces she'd ever seen.

She thought, "It's Rita Skeeter."

The woman was older, probably in her 50's, and extremely well-dressed. She wore a Chanel suit, pearls and earrings. Her face was immaculately made up, her thin black hair in a precision bob, with unnaturally straight bangs. She had a huge, hooked nose, like a giant beak, and tiny, beady black eyes. Her mouth was a crimson slash.

But it was her expression that made Cassie think of Rita. The woman was looking at her like a spider who had just trapped the most succulent fly, the way Rita had slobbered over Harry. Her black eyes were hooked into Cassie's; she could not look away for a second. 

Cassie stammered, "Can I help you?"

The lady murmured, in a deep, scratchy voice, "Oh, I think you can."

What a freak! But Cassie couldn't break her stare. It was like she was being hypnotized.

Cassie watched, disbelieving, as her taloned hand reached up to hold her chin. She grasped her jaw, and slowly turned her head to the left and right, like she was looking at a diamond or a ruby.

"Pretty girl. Pretty, pretty girl."

Ok, freak, now you're really creeping me out. Cassie tried to jerk her head away, but "Rita" held it and continued to peruse her.

"Exquisite. Just exquisite. I've never seen that shade of blue, like the summer sky. Pink lips, sensuous but sweet. The skin . . . " she murmured as she ran her hand over Cassie's cheek. "Ivory silk. And the hair . . ." Her leering gaze caressed Cassie's mane of russet waves. "Not too red. A true copper."

"Amazing. Astounding."

Finally Cassie jerked away from her. "What do you want?!"

At that the woman seemed to snap out of it. She glanced down and took in the magazine, which was spread open on the counter like some embarrassing sexual thing Cassie been caught doing. She hastily closed it.

Cassie saw her eyes take in her name tag.

"So tell me, Cassandra, have you ever had your picture taken?"

"Yes," Cassie stammered. "Of course."

The woman waved her claw in the air. "I don't mean for the high school yearbook, little girl. I mean, by a professional, someone who knows what they're doing."

Cassie stared at her. She had just spent the last hour at the counter fantasizing about that very thing. "No," she whispered.

The woman glanced down at the magazine. "But you want to, don't you? You know you could do it. You know you could be like those girls."

"I don't know . . ." Cassie lied.

"Hmmm," the lady said, suddenly switching to business mode. She pushed her only purchase, a can of Diet Coke, towards her. "Ring me up, cashier girl."

Cassie took in her designer bag and shoes, the whole thing, and wondered how in the world such an obvious New Yorker had stumbled into their store.

She rang her up, saying, "Who . . . I mean, why are you here?"

The woman slapped a business card down on the counter. "Visiting my son. Trust me, it's the only thing that could ever get me to come to New Jersey. But now . . . hmmm . . . well, stranger things have happened."

She got ready to go, but clutched Cassie's hand with hers before she left.

"If you don't want to be waiting on people like me the rest of your life, give me a call. Think about it. And Cassandra—" she glanced down at the business card. "I don't give those out very often. There are millions of girls who would scratch your eyes out to get that number."

She turned to go, and Cassie just stared after her in disbelief, holding the card in her hand.

She looked at it.

Freya Malle, CEO FM Modeling Agency, New York, NY

That was it, plus an address and a phone number

She was still gazing at it when she heard one of her brothers yelling for her, so she quickly stuck it in the pocket of her jeans and got ready to go. +++

"Stop it!" 

Joe was tickling Cassie on the way back to the house, trying hard to make her laugh, which she was. 

"'Stop it!'" he joked, mimicking her. "'Stop it, oooh stop it!'"

"Don't you have anything better to do than pick on me?"

"No, it's my favorite thing in the world," he said, as his hands found her rib cage, making Cassie double over away from him. Before long she was giggling hysterically and begging him to stop.

"So what are your plans for the summer, baby sis? You still seeing that idiot?"

"He's not an idiot, and no, I'm not. I keep telling you! Sean and I broke up."

"Good. He was a wuss."

"He played football, jerk. He could take you in a second."

"He's got shit for brains then. Nothing going on upstairs."

"You always hate my boyfriends!"

"That's right," said Josh, coming up on the other side. "No one's good enough for you."

"Oh, shoot. If it was up to you two I'd never date."

"Not any of the lunkheads around here! Come on, Cassie, you're never going to meet Prince Charming in Bumfuck, NJ. You should get away, go to the city."

She glared at them, thinking about the card in her pocket. 

Cassie turned to head into the house, glancing to make sure they were gone.

She stuck her hand into her pocket as she headed inside, touching that card, knowing it wasn't the only secret she was keeping from them. 

She knew Larry was inside. That was the other secret, and the last thing she wanted was for them to suspect it. +++

He was in the kitchen, reading his mail, when she walked in.

She flashed a happy smile when she saw him, melting with pleasure. 

Larry was quite the business owner nowadays, but had never lost his blue collar roots. He preferred to be outside working whenever he could, and he was standing there now in grass-stained jeans and an old t-shirt with sweat blooming around the neck and back. Cassie simply adored the sight of him. She took in his barrel-chested, bulky body, his massive hands and sighed . . . . He was big and strong and muscly and warm and just so thoroughly, mysteriously masculine. 

He heard her come in and glanced up. He didn't say anything as she headed to the fridge, saying "Hi," as she got a bottle of Snapple. "Everything going ok at work?"

"Yes. Everything's good. Oh here, baby, let me help you with that."

At the sound of his voice, Cassie felt her stomach muscles clench and her nipples harden under her blouse and she flushed a deep red, which was very noticeable with her pale skin. She was so flustered she couldn't open her drink.

He came over, and took the bottle from her hands. Cassie watched him twist the top off as if in slow motion, her gaze lingering on the way the hairs on his skin had become almost bleached blond in the sun, and stood out so softly against his flexed muscle. It lasted probably 5 seconds, but it seemed to take an hour before she heard the "pop."

She laughed awkwardly when he handed her the bottle, making her feel silly. It was only a bottle of Snapple for god's sake. But she was so self-conscious as she raised it to her mouth. Larry stood there, motionless, never losing eye contact, clenching and unclenching his hands, as he watched her chug down the iced tea. 

"Thanks," she said, exhaling. 

"Oh, wait just a sec . . ." 

He wet his thumb with his tongue and gently wiped it across the dripping tea on her chin, his gaze lingering on her lips as he did it. Cassie laughed again from the nervous shivers running up and down her spine when he touched her. It was such a "Larry" thing to do. 

"Gotcha. All cleaned up," he murmured, his voice trailing away into a whisper, as his hand stayed there, framing her beautiful face, his thumb tracing her full pink lips. 

Both of them glanced nervously towards the door.

Cassie simply couldn't help the way her blue eyes latched onto his, or the way she leaned into his caress. She couldn't stop her hand from reaching up and pressing the tip of his thumb to her lips. She felt like she was in a dream as she wrapped her wet lips around it and sucked half deep into her mouth. She saw him glance down to her breasts. She knew her nipples were hard and pressing through her thin blouse. 

Larry felt powerless to stop it—to stop her. He could not breathe or move. 

He murmured, "What are you doing Baby Doll . . .?" and tried to tug his hand away from her mouth. But she only made a little moan, and sucked harder. 

"Fuck . . ." Larry hissed, unable to look away from her liquid blue eyes. He could not help himself. He saw his other hand reaching up to her breasts, desperate to touch those jutting nipples, as if it was someone else doing it. Cassie groaned sharply when his fingertips just barely grazed her left nipple, and he watched it swell into a sharp, hard point. He whispered, "Shhh!" while glancing to the door.

He stared, mesmerized, as he played with her nipples, watching them harden, hearing her breath become deeper and slower. 

"What are you doing tonight?" he said.

"Mmmm . . ." she could only moan. 

"Will you be home . . . late?" he said, while glancing out the window.

She shook her head, while holding his eyes. 

Larry could not stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. 

"Come see Daddy, later . . . when you get back . . ."

She made a happy moan, and nodded, then made a disappointed sound when he pulled away from her. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and whisper in her ear. "See you then."

+++

Larry headed to the apartment, his head full of the image of Cassie opening her mouth, holding that glass bottle to her lips, her sky blue eyes latched onto his. He was hard and throbbing, and hurried to get inside.

He immediately got to work, needing to get his mind on other things. He was re-doing the kitchen and bathroom in this place and still in the middle of scraping off wallpaper and chipping off the plaster walls. It was slow work, and he was glad he had something to occupy him.

Larry could trace the exact moment when things had changed—well, for him at least. It was nearly a year ago, not soon after Cassie turned 18. 

Of course he'd seen that she had blossomed into a gorgeous young woman—you'd have to be blind not to see that. Since the moment he'd allowed her to date at 16 she'd had boys beating down their door. It wasn't exactly a secret. 

But that hadn't prepared him for the moment he'd walked into the living room as she was waiting for a date one night, yawning and stretching and unaware that he'd come in the room. She'd been wearing a dress—a short, frilly, silly little thing that rode up her slim thighs as she reached up and flexed her arms and shook out her hair.

He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. He caught a glimpse of her pale body, her long legs and large breasts. She was slightly turned so her perfect, tight, cheeks could be seen curving deliciously out from the sway of her lower back, covered only with the tiniest of panties. Her red hair flowed in small waves down past her shoulders, framing her beautiful face. 

Until that moment, he'd always considered himself an "ordinary" guy. There was nothing special about him. He worked, he did right by his family, he took care of a lot of people. He prided himself on being reliable and honest. He'd built most of this house, he'd raised four kids by himself. But he didn't pat himself on the back for that. It was just what a real man and a real father was supposed to do.

He had relationships, occasionally. He knew he could have female company, sex, whenever he wanted it.

He'd thought his life was perfectly fine, until that moment.

He scraped hard at the sticky wallpaper which simply didn't want to come off, working up a sweat. But the frustration he felt wasn't only from this mindless task.

For the first time in his life, he regretted never going to college, or—reading more books, or something, because he found himself searching constantly for words to express the feelings he had for her. He couldn't. 

In the beginning, he found himself just thinking of things he wanted to tell her, say to her, or dreaming of places he wanted to take her. He wanted to please her, make her laugh, make her feel treasured and protected and loved. It wasn't just about fucking a gorgeous girl. He loved her.

Eventually it changed . . . and he'd stroke his cock through his boxers, thinking of erotic scenarios. He thought of . . . scenes. Things they could act out and play. How she would dress for him. What he would tell her to get her aroused. How he would be the gentlest, sweetest, most tender lover she could ever imagine. How he would teach her and guide her. He spun these images and stories out from his mind, one after the other, and they surprised him as much as the sudden attraction to her.




Baby Doll



He'd never felt anything like this before. It was her. He knew it was her. She was so achingly beautiful, a fucking dream that stopped him in his tracks and turned him into a new person, one he did not know. 

He'd thought, for months, that it was only him, and that he could hide this bothersome problem. No one needed to know. God knows he had never encouraged it. He had avoided her to the point of feeling like an asshole, and a deadbeat dad.

And then, slowly, it had . . . happened. And now here they were.

+++

As soon as Cassie got into her room she flopped onto her bed, curled up with a pillow, and dreamily traced her chin where his fingers had touched it. 

Her breasts were throbbing, her nipples continuing to send electric currents down to her wet, aching pussy. She squeezed the pillow tighter between her thighs, and sighed, and groaned.

. . . Daddy . . .

Cassie squirmed and rolled around in bed like a kitten with a taste of catnip, a smile of delight on her lips, happiness spreading throughout her body.

She lolled around in bed for a few minutes, thinking about him.

She knew it was . . . unusual . . . and that no normal girl should be feeling this way. But if anyone who didn't get it could just feel how she felt right now . . . she wouldn't have guessed she could ever feel this way herself, up until a few months ago.

It had come on so gradually, so imperceptibly, she hadn't really noticed it consciously, at first. It was only looking back that she could see the small subtle shifts in their usual relationship—the growing discomfort, the pauses, glances, the way they had begun to avoid each other. 

She knew he'd been uncomfortable with it, too. She knew neither one of them had sought this out, or made it happen. But it had.

She had seriously thought of moving out of the house before things changed. Completely. But now, she had "Daddy," and he had his Baby Doll, Princess, Angel . . . And no one else needed to know. 

Cassie sighed, again. These little moments here and there were so special. They hadn't "done" much, besides some touching and . . . other things. It was so heavenly, but, she also knew . . . unrealistic. 

She stood up quickly, snapping herself out of her lolling dream state. She needed to get ready to meet her friends.

A few minutes later she was putting on her jacket. She had forgotten about the business card, and took it out of her pocket and glanced at it. She considered just tossing it in the trash, but at the last minute put it on her dresser, underneath a bottle of "Angel" perfume.

+++

A couple of hours later a car full of laughing girls dropped Cassie off at her house. She immediately glanced towards the back of the property, and saw a light on in the apartment above the old stone garage. She smiled to herself, and then went to her room to change. She touched up her make-up and donned a scooped-neck white blouse with tiny puffed sleeves that was incredibly tight around her bust. Her beautiful breasts were mashed together into deep cleavage, nearly spilling out of her top, but were shaded by a kind of sheer panel which kept them discreetly displayed. She wore micro-mini white shorts underneath the flowing blouse. She stuck her bare feet into flip flips and glanced at herself with approval in the mirror. Perfect. 

The night air blew up underneath her blouse as she tiptoed outside, caressing her exposed skin. She made her way through the backyard and into some brush and trees surrounding the dimly-lit apartment. A single light was glowing in the window. 

Larry was waiting for her, with a mixture of emotions—dread and guilt, mixed with throbbing, eager anticipation. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop the consuming need to see her. Not since the first time he'd held her. She seemed made to be wrapped in his strong arms. Her body, so tall and light and yet rich and voluptuous, fit perfectly into his, as if made to be his. He couldn't go more than a few days without holding her, smelling her hair, just touching her skin. His life quickly came to revolve around these stolen moments, like he was having a clandestine affair. He could not fathom life without her now.

He'd wake up in the morning thinking of her, and his cock would spring to a 90 degree angle from his groin, rock hard and dripping, and he'd already be thinking about her bare breasts, her gaze as she kneeled in front of him and he fed her his cock. He'd be in the middle of a fantasy, unable to stop it rolling fully formed in his mind. He could feel her lips wrapping around him and hear her moans, as he gently guided her to take more, go deeper, while whispering sweet words of how much he loved his Baby Girl. He'd have to stroke himself, the need to come so great he could barely hold back. He'd close his eyes when he came imagining her taking it all. 

Then real life would come trickling back in, and he'd push these thoughts from his mind, until he saw her again . . .

He heard her footsteps and almost reluctantly opened the door, but when he did, the guilt and doubt flew from his mind; he saw only a perfect angel looking at him expectantly with big blue eyes. It was so natural and simple to carry her with her long legs wrapped around his waist and her face buried in his neck to their big comfortable chair and deposit her on his lap. 

Cassie sighed happily as she shifted her perfect ass on his thighs, her arms draped lovingly around his shoulders, as she drank in his warm hazel eyes, his full lips, and the smell of his skin. He smelled so good—a mixture of grass, sweat and aftershave, the best smells in the world. She hadn't seen him up close in a while so she moved her hands up to his close-cropped brown hair with a touch of gray and just held his face. He was perhaps an average good-looking man, but to her he was wonderful. She was so happy to be able to gaze at him without hiding her total adoration.

Larry glanced down and picked at the flounces around the bust of her top.

"What are you wearing for Daddy tonight? Show me."

Cassie flashed him a deep smile as she pulled back, letting him see how pretty her breasts looked. He smiled back at her with a knowing look in his eyes. 

"Very naughty. Were you thinking about Daddy when you put this on?"

She slid her arms backwards, coyly thrusting her heaving tits forward and pushing them together. 

"Yes," she said.

"Hmmm . . . and why is that?" said Larry, as he began to pull down the veil over her cleavage. "Because you knew I couldn't resist? I'll have to see then . . . if that's what my Baby Girl wants."

"Yes," Cassie said, with a slight beg in her voice. "Please, Daddy."

"Let me have a look at you."

Cassie's breathing grew slow and heavy as she watched him gently tug down the top of her blouse, which was made specifically for easy access, until her breasts were almost completely exposed, except for the very tops of her nipples. She made an exaggerated "Oh!" of surprise.

"Mmmmm . . . very nice, Baby Doll. Now let me . . ."

His voice trailed off as he tugged the stretchy flounced neckline over and past her hard nipples, letting the entire pink-tipped globes burst into view. 

"That's better."

He framed her voluptuous breasts with his hands and looked and looked. They were pale, ivory, creamy white, whatever the words were, and the small puffy nipples just a shade darker than her flesh. 

"I love looking at you, Princess. So sexy for Daddy."

Larry gently squeezed her breasts together, watching her nipples swell and harden and beg for his mouth. He looked and looked, teasing her, until her gasping breath turned into moans and she arched her back, desperate for release.

"Please, . . . please . . .!"

"Mmmmm . . ." 

Larry drew one pale, perfect nipple into his mouth. Cassie crushed his head tightly against her with one hand, crying out and gasping as he sucked and teased and nipped the stiff flesh. 

"Daddy, oh, oh!" she gasped again and again, his skillful tongue slowly circling and savoring the taste and feel of his beautiful daughter's breasts until he had to pull away, too aroused to continue.

"That's enough, Baby Doll . . ."

"Hmmmm. . ." Cassie sighed, her pussy gushing so wet and hot she could barely breathe. "Ohhhh . . ." 

He made her so crazy! She flopped over, burying her face in his neck, kissing him all over, up to his mouth, pressing her soft pink lips against his and whispering, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Angel."

Cassie felt the long, hard ridge of Larry's cock against her tender inner thigh, and she pushed against it, rocking lightly. She'd felt him, like this, but he'd never let her suck him, or even take his cock out. "Not yet," he would say, gently pushing her away. But he would let her cuddle on his lap as he throbbed hot and hard against her as they talked, and whispered sweet things to each other. 

"You look pretty tonight! Did you have fun?"

"No," Cassie said. 

"Why not?"

She pulled back to look at him seriously, glad she had him to talk to.

"My friends are idiots."

Larry laughed at the look of disgust on her face. "Why's that, Baby Doll?"

"We went out to a club. I was so bored. They act like complete and utter fools about guys. They're so needy! Like their lives only gain meaning if they're getting male attention. Like it's the highlight of their existence if someone thinks they're sexy."

"Well you're sexy," Larry interjected.

"Thank you. I mean . . . it's nice to be thought sexy, but I don't crave it like they do. They get these ecstatic looks on their faces, like finally I'm worth something because I gave a guy a hard-on, ooooh."

"Wellllll . . ." Larry said, as he subtly pushed his hard cock against her thigh.

She laughed and said, "That's different. I love you. And I know you love me. I don't think my friends would be this way if they had what I had. You. And Josh and Joe and Jake. Sometimes I think that's what they're searching for . . . " 

Suddenly she threw her arms around him. "I love you so much."

"Hey, hey . . ." said Larry, seeing that she was upset. "It's ok."

"And that's the other thing," she said, suddenly getting a second wind. Her gorgeous breasts were still bare as she continued to talk. "I like dressing up for you. I LOVE it. I don't NEED it. I don't HAVE to. I like being sexy for you because it's you, and . . . because of . . . us . . ."

"Yes, I get it. I do, baby. It's ok," he said, as he gently pulled her top back on. "Listen. I was thinking . . ."

"What?"

"You know we said we wanted to wait . . . take it slow . . . explore our feelings . . ."

"Yes?" she said, hopefully. 

Larry leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Soon. We'll go to the beach house. Just you and me. Daddy will take you on a romantic date. We'll go to the boardwalk. Walk on the beach."

Cassie smiled at him, deeply pleased. Her smile spread warmth throughout her body. "I'd love that."

"Ok, then."

Lying in his warm, strong arms, Cassie thought about the woman she had met that day. She'd nearly forgotten. She considered telling Larry, but not until she'd decided what she wanted to do. An idea was forming in her mind. Why not? She knew she could do it. She loved getting dressed up . . . being sexy . . . sometimes . . . and she could show her friends. You don't have to turn yourself into an idiot. You could be sexy and . . . yet . . . self-aware. . . why not? She was just assuming models had to be stupid. That's why she'd never taken it seriously before. Well, she'd see about that . . .

+++

As soon as she awoke the next morning, she reached for the card and dialed the 212 area code number on her phone.

"Hello?" said a harsh voice with a strong New York accent.

"Hi, I'm calling to make an appointment."

"For what?"

"Um, for modeling?"

"We don't take walk-ins. Thanks for your interest."

"Wait! This woman said to call."

"Excuse me? Who?"

"Um, 'Freya Ma—?'"

"How do you know that name? And how exactly did you get this number?"

"She gave me her card."

"What's your name?" she said abruptly.

"Cassie Ste—" but she cut her off. A minute later Cassie heard a deep smoky voice on the phone.

"Cassandra." It came out like seductive purr.

"Yes, hi, um, I have your number and decided to call."

"I see that. When can you come in?"

"Um, next week? I have to take the train, I guess, and then I don't know from there I'd have to—"

"You have the address. Go online and use hopstop. It will tell you. I want you dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans, and DO NOT wear make-up or put . . . anything . . . in your hair or tie it up. Wear it loose to your shoulders. Next Tuesday, 1:00."

"Ok, thank—"

"Do NOT blow this, Cassandra. Be here, on time, just as I say."

"Ok, ok, I will."

"See you then." Click.

As soon as she hung up, Cassie called her friend Vick and finagled her to come with her. She didn't want to face the Wicked Witch of the West all alone.

That done, she headed downstairs to get some breakfast, still tired and rubbing her eyes.

"Wake up!" 

"Ow!" 

Joe had chucked a balled up napkin at Cassie's head.

"So how's Sean?" said Josh. "Did you kiss?" 

Cassie reached for the syrup, glaring at Josh. "How old are you, 12? And I told you, we broke up."

"Well, did you kiss anyone else?" chimed in Joe. 

She rolled her eyes again. "Oh my god, I feel so sorry for your girlfriends."

Joe and Josh had steady, long-time girlfriends. Both great girls. Smart, tough, funny. Clearly her brothers were adult enough to sustain actual relationships, but when it came to her, they inevitably turned into fools. 

"Oh, please, they're lucky to have two studs like us," said Josh.

"They haven't seen how you act at home."

"Cassie, admit it," said Joe, standing up, and rubbing his ever-growing tummy, "Who wouldn't want—er—200 pounds of prime New Jersey—"

"I'll stop you there, bro," said Josh, standing up to cut him off. He walked over to her and planted a kiss on her head. "We're just teasing. You know we love you, Cass."

She smiled at him. "I know."

"So what are you two up to today?" said Cassie. 

"Well . . . seeing that you were at the store all week, we'll do it this weekend," said Joe.

"And then we'll be taking Jen and Amy out tonight."

"Ooooh," said Cassie. "Don't spend too much. McDonald's can get really expensive."

"Dollar menu, little sis, dollar menu."

"Wait, where's Dadd—I mean, Larry?"

"Did you almost say Daddy?" Joe said, gaping at her. 

Cassie had turned a deep red.

"Oh my god, that is so fucking adorable!" said Josh. "You're blushing, baby sis."

"No I'm not," she said pointlessly.

"Yes, you are. Aw . . . come here . . . yes . . . "

Josh was going in for a deep tickle. 

"Cut it out!" she said, immediately breaking into hysterical giggles. "Stop, stop!"

"Daddy. You are too cute. My little baby sister. God, Joe, remember how cute she was, with her hair all messed up in the morning?"

"I can't help it. It gets tangled."

"Yes we know. We were the ones who got you ready for school."

Cassie laughed, remembering how she would complain and cry while they tried to comb out her hair.

"Alright, we'll see you later. And Larry is out back repaving the walkway."

+++

Cassie headed out back a little while later, with her hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail. She wore a simple white dress. He smiled when he saw her. Her eyes flashed at him for just a second before she took up a spot on the lawn nearby. She reclined on her side with her head propped up on one elbow, casually picking at some little flowers as she watched him work. 

They didn't talk, but their silence was comfortable and intimate, though Cassie was recoiling inside at her little flub in front of her brothers. She had to smile.

Even now, just lying on the grass, the mere thought of "Daddy" made her soaking wet. It made her crazy, and do things she never would have dreamed of doing. Yet it was so right, so perfect. She never doubted it, not now. She'd never felt anything more natural and pure. 

She gazed at his muscled body as he worked, remembering how it all really started.

For weeks, the tension between them had become so painful she could barely stand it. She could hardly look him in the eye, and if she ever did, she felt like she had to restrain herself from jumping him right then and there. If they touched, in the kitchen, on the way out the door, at the store or in the car, she wouldn't be able to calm down for hours. She would go to her room and cry on her bed, rubbing herself, trying to get some relief. If they were ever alone, they could barely say a word to each other. Larry would stand there with his fists clenching and unclenching, looking at her, as if he wanted talk but could not. And neither could she. They were practically strangers with each other.

It all came to a head this one morning, not soon after she'd broken up with Sean. 

She wandered downstairs, following voices and laughter out to the deck. Joe was there, and Larry was cooking behind the grill. 

"Hey, baby," Joe smiled. 

"Hi," she said, yawning, glancing over at Larry. She knew he'd seen her come in, but he was pretending he hadn't.

"One of your boyfriends stopped in the store this morning. Tim, I think? He was asking about you. Apparently he doesn't know about Sean. Honestly, Cass, we need a list to keep all these guys straight."

"Sean and I broke up," Cassie mumbled. 

As soon as she said it, she felt Larry looking at her. She knew he was listening.

"What? You just saw him the other night."

"I know."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I just told him I didn't want to see him anymore."

"So another one bites the dust," Joe said, getting up. "Just out of curiosity, what did you tell him?"

"Joe, stop," Larry said from over by the grill. "Let her alone."

"Fine, fine," her brother said, getting up. "Well I'm going back to the store. Busy today. See you later, baby sis," he whispered as he left.

"Bye."

As soon as he left, Larry came over with plates of food and sat down and they ate in silence for a while.

Again, the horrible tension. 

After a few minutes, Larry set his fork down. "Cassie, I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I should have . . . I think I should have gotten remarried. It would have been better. Especially for you."

"What?! Why do you say that?"

"Maybe you should have had a woman around . . . to talk to. That's my fault."

Cassie couldn't believe it. This wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping, expecting him to say.

"Why are you saying that? It's not because of Sean is it?"

"Well, I wonder . . . you do go through boys quickly. Maybe it would be different for you if you had had a mother. Someone to really help you with—dating and things."

"No," she said firmly.

"No?"

"I mean, yes, I missed having a mother, when I was little. But . . . that has nothing to do with Sean. I broke up with him."

"Yes, and why was that?" he asked, looking at her intently.

"It just wasn't what I wanted."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. He was nice and everything, but . . ."

"What?"

"I don't know. I just haven't met the right person. That's all it is."

"Are you sure? Are you sure I haven't, I don't know, screwed you up in some way?"

His voice was so quiet and there was a long, terrible silence. They both knew very well there was another meaning to his question, but they simply could not say it. 

"No," she said, looking down at her plate as her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't believe he'd even think that for a moment. "No! You're . . . you're . . ."

She had no words for what he was to her, or how much she loved him. The pressure of the last few weeks finally got to her, and she began to lose control. 




Baby Doll



"What is it?" he asked, seeing that she was on the verge of really breaking into a fit.

"Nothing," she whispered, as she got up from the table and walked as fast as she could, practically ran, to the gazebo shaded by birch trees at the back of their property. She just had to get away from him. 

"Cassie, wait!"

He caught up with her, but she wouldn't turn around. 

She couldn't face him. She simply couldn't do it. He tugged at her elbow, but she jerked her arm away with a little sob. 

"Cassie," he said, quietly. "Please look at me."

And then, "Look at Daddy."

Cassie gasped, and closed her eyes. She hadn't called him that since she was a little girl. She hadn't ever heard him call himself that. But he was now. And they both knew why.

She didn't think she could ever describe the strength of the emotions that exploded within her—a mixture of the sweetest, the deepest, the most tender love, and at the very same moment, the most intense, all-consuming lust, instantly coursing through her body, making her nipples harden and her pussy gush with wetness. She felt like she could almost come right then and there. Hot, throbbing waves of pleasure shot out from her pussy and her stiffened clit. She knew, knew he must feel it too. She knew if she touched him she'd find him rock hard.

For just a moment she gathered herself, and then turned around to face him, flushed and breathing heavily. She still could not look him in the eye.

But he put his hand under her chin, and tilted her head up, forcing her to. His hand touched her cheek, and she leaned into it. 

His eyes were so warm and soft, his gaze a loving caress. 

"God . . . You are so beautiful."

His thumb moved to her lips, and traced their fullness along with his words. 

He whispered, "I know things have been different between us. I know that. I know things have changed. It's my fault. All my fault."

She tried to shake her head "no," but she could only stare, helpless, enraptured. She had no control over herself. 

She could tell he had been through some kind of terrible struggle. He had wanted, needed, and dreamt of doing this, for how long she did not know, and now that he had touched her, he could not stop. His hands framed her face, sunk into her hair; he feasted on her every gorgeous feature and searched her eyes with his own. 

"Tell me, baby" he said, "Be honest. Have you thought about Daddy?"

She nodded slowly, whispering, "Yes."

It wasn't exactly true. She hadn't—not consciously, not specifically. She'd only pictured him. But it was "Daddy" making her writhe in torment on her bed—wanting, needing, only Daddy's touch. It wasn't until he'd said it that she knew. 

He was so smart. He knew. He knew exactly what she needed. 

"Let me handle this. Let Daddy handle this. Alright? Will you do that?"

And not long after that, they had met for the first time in the apartment.

+++

Cassie forced herself back into the present moment.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" she asked him.

Larry stopped working to address her. "Which part?"

"About going to the shore?"

Larry immediately glanced towards the house to make sure they were alone, then leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. "Yes. Of course I did."

"Alright."

"So I'm going to be gone for a few days. I'll be tending to some sites up north."

"Oh," she said, disappointed. "When will you be back?"

"Tuesday night. I was going to come 'Say good night' to you tonight before I leave."

That made her break into a happy smile. 

"Ok."

"Will you be ready for me?"

Cassie nodded, as an ache of anticipation settled in her belly. It was something to look forward to all day. . .

+++

Hours later, when the rest of the house was asleep, Larry knocked softly on her bedroom door, and let himself in without waiting for a response.

He locked the door behind him, and when he saw her he got instantly hard.

She was sitting sweetly on the edge of her bed, looking sexy in a white, skin-tight baby T stretched across her bare breasts. It ended just below her navel, laying bare several inches of her flat, sexy tummy, and a pair of tiny white cotton panties on her perfect, rounded hips. Lastly she had on white ankle socks edged in lace around the folded down hem. Her hair was curled and her face exquisitely made-up, like a doll, her blue eyes fringed with heavy lashes and her pink lips shiny and full.

Cassie had spent hours getting ready, loving the ritual almost as much as she loved seeing him. She sat waiting with her hands tucked under her thighs, which had the effect of pushing her big tits together and making them just burst forward, barely contained by her tiny cotton shirt. 

"Do you like it?" she said, while spreading her silky smooth thighs just a bit more.

Larry felt his cock pulsing heavy, hot, and hard, the head pushing against the fabric of his jeans and leaking out cum. The need, the lust, that burst out between them like this, behind closed doors, with no one else knowing, just Daddy and his Baby Girl, was unlike anything he had ever known. Her gaze was pure honey, lustful and sensuous, yet so trusting and adoring of her Daddy, coming in to say goodnight to her.

"Yes, Daddy likes it," Larry said, his voice made a bit hoarse and husky by his intense arousal. "Did you do this for me?"

"Yes," Cassie said, "I did."

"Good, good," Larry said, as he was finally able to do something besides stand there, stunned. He walked over to her, planting himself between her slightly spread thighs and wedging them a little further apart. His cock was so big and hard and blatantly visible, right in her line of sight, though Cassie kept her gaze fixed on his face. 

"Very good girl, doing this all for Daddy. See what you do to me?"

"Oh! . . ." she gasped, feigning surprise as her blue eyes latched onto his rigid cock, perfectly defined through his jeans. "Can I . . .?" she whispered, though her hand was already reaching forwards, desperate to touch.

"Just a little, Baby Girl."

Cassie ran her fingers lightly across his massive bulge, both of them silent for a moment as the presence of his cock seemed to fill the entire room. She felt the long, rigid shaft, as solid as an iron bar, her sensitive fingertips gauging inches and girth, her nipples hardening at the realization of just how big and thick he really was. Larry let her indulge her need; he watched her gorgeous face, her eyelashes sweeping down across her rosy cheeks, her wet lips parted as if she couldn't wait to get it in her mouth. But as soon as her fingers reached the sensitive head, he had to grasp her wrists and stop her. 

"That's enough," Larry said. 

"Oh," Cassie made a little pout of disappointment. 

"Shh," Larry said, "Soon." 

"You want to spend some time with Daddy alone, don't you? Just you and I? We'll have the whole place to ourselves. I'll make you so happy, Baby Girl."

Cassie sighed, playing along with this delicious game. "Will you show me what you like?"

"Everything, baby. Daddy has a lot of things he wants to show you and teach you."

Cassie looked up at him sweetly. "Can I show you . . . now?"

He knew what she meant. "Yes, Baby Doll. Show me."

Cassie slid back on her bed, pushing her breasts together, and spreading her legs. Larry's gaze latched onto her sweet, adorable little mound. He could see the outline of her lips, the deep cleft in between, the bump of her swollen clit. 

"Show me, Princess."

Cassie smiled, and gazed at him, as her hand traveled down over her flat stomach and found her pussy. She spread a little wider, so he could see her slowly trace her swelling labia, and push into her wet hole through her thin panties. 

Larry walked around the end of the bed, and his hand reached for his jeans. "Show me, Baby Doll, Daddy wants to watch you."

Cassie scooted quickly forward onto the bed, getting into her favorite position, with her face and shoulders pushed into the mattress and her ass and hips pushed high into the air. She wiggled a little, getting comfortable. As she reached backwards into her panties, seeking her aching, swollen clit, she heard Larry unzipping his jeans, and his groan as he found his cock.

Their role play was only the thinnest veil over the true heat and violence of their incestuous lust, but it was one they desperately needed. They had to have it, to deal with what was happening, and with each other. 

But sometimes, like now, they did not hold back. Larry jerked his cock, sliding the clear pre-cum all over, getting slick and slippery, as he watched his daughter furiously work her clit back and forth for him. They gave in to their lust, Cassie knowing every second he was watching her. His gaze on her drove her wild, and her thighs trembled with the knowledge that he was taking in every single detail. Larry jerked his prick hard and fast and Cassie fucked her pussy with her fingers, wanting him to see, knowing what he was seeing was going to make him come. She began to gasp and moan, louder and faster, whispering "Daddy, Daddy" as she got closer and closer. They couldn't stop it. 

They both suppressed their cries when they came, aware of other people in the house, both knowing that soon, very soon, they would be together in the way they needed. Larry watched his cock shoot out ropes of cum onto a towel on her bed, dizzy and light-headed with the force of his orgasm. Cassie moaned and cried out into her pillow as her thighs shook and trembled and her pussy exploded in wetness over her hand. She could not move, she was so stunned, her mind overwhelmed. She lay still, breathing heavily for several minutes, while Larry picked things up, and then felt his hand on her hair. He leaned over, kissing her, saying, "Shhh . . . go to sleep. I love you, baby. I'll see you soon, when I get back."

+++

For the next several days, Cassie had nothing to do but work at the store and get nervous for her appointment.

She spent a lot of time perusing magazines, wondering if this was completely insane, comparing herself to every girl she saw. 

How hard could it be? Her ass was just as tight and perfect, her tits just as hot, her face just as pretty. Would it be fun, would she enjoy it? 

The more she thought about it, the more she decided it was a good idea. 

And plus . . . she flipped through her magazines, looking at all these gorgeous girls, lolling about, selling sex . . . yes, well she knew something about that. Admittedly, it was quite . . . unique . . . but . . . she knew what was hot alright. Wouldn't that make her the perfect model? And didn't she know how to get into a role? 

She picked out a particularly hot chick from a catalogue, decked out in creamy, lacy lingerie, and stared at her incredible face, so pretty, so promising . . . but how different did she appear when Cassie thought of her having her own Daddy. She actually had to stifle a laugh. Now that was hot. Hmm . . . she twirled her hair, thinking she should not find that so appealing. But no one would know. . . 

She gave in to her fantasies, pondering how these two strange turns her life had taken could actually work together in interesting, very interesting, ways . . . 

But they were only dreams, and she really had no idea how difficult it was going to be.

+++

On Tuesday, Vicky bailed on her at the last minute, so Cassie took the train to Manhattan by herself. She'd been there once or twice with girlfriends, but never all alone, and she was slightly nervous. She had no idea what to expect.

She was wearing just what Freya said—a plain white t-shirt and jeans with ballet flats, with her hair loose and around her shoulders. Nothing amazing at all, but nevertheless she got looks and wolf whistles and catcalls and "Hey, Baby Doll!" yelled at her from the minute she got off the train. 

She made her way to a luxury skyscraper in Midtown, where she saw in little gold letters "FM Modeling Agency, 35th Floor" on the directory by the door. By this time her stomach was in knots. Her hand was shaking badly when she handed the security guy her ID and signed in. It was on the very top floor, in the penthouse suite. She pushed the button wondering if it was all a hoax, and she was really going straight to her death at the hands of some serial killer. She realized she should have told her brothers, at least, but she consoled herself with the fact that Vicky knew where she was, and she at least could lead the police to her body.

The elevators opened onto a completely empty, gray corridor, unfinished, with cement flooring and shoddy-looking walls. Oh god, she thought, what have I gotten myself into?

But then she saw a little sign saying, "Excuse the remodeling," and an arrow pointing to "FM Modeling Agency."

She tried to open the gold handle on a set of heavy wooden doors, but they were locked. She had to push a buzzer. As soon as she did, the doors magically clicked open onto a waiting room, cheaply furnished. It looked like a dentist's office. There were old, well-thumbed copies of Vogue on a side table, but no reception desk, just another door. She was right on time, so all she could do was sit and wait.

After about 15 minutes of getting more and more anxious, a gorgeous blond opened the door. She was incredibly beautiful, with bright sparkling green eyes, perfect teeth, and long legs clad in 5 inch black stillettos. 

"Hi, Cassie, follow me."

She took her into a small, brightly lit room that was obviously some kind of photo set-up, but more like the DMV than anything else. There was only a camera on a tripod facing a blank wall.

"Stand over there, please, with your toes at the yellow line."

She did as she said, feeling like she was in a police line-up.

"Ok now hold still and look right at me. Good." 

She snapped about ten shots, before gesturing to the door.

"Ok, now if you'd kindly go wait in the front office, Freya will be with you soon."

Cassie had no clue what was going on, but the fear that she was going to be chopped up by a deranged killer was at least fading from her mind. She sat and waited, and waited, surfing on her phone. Finally, after an hour, she was summoned.

She was led to a very well-appointed suite, with rich carpets and expensive leather furniture. Beautifully framed photos of magazines covered the walls, all of girls she recognized.

Freya Malle was sitting behind a huge walnut desk. She had a black suit on and the same long, blood red nails.

"Cassandra," she purred. "Have a seat."

Cassie took up a place in front of her. Freya had a stack of photos in her hand, and she spread them out on her desk. They were all of her. 

"Tell me, what do you see?" she said.

Was it a trick question?

"Um . . . me?"

She tapped her fingernails, gazing at her intently. "I've been looking at your pictures for an hour, Cassie. An hour. Do you know how often I do that? Never. Most girls who come in here, many just as gorgeous as you, get only five minutes before they are on their way out the door. You're very lucky to be sitting here right now. Very lucky."

"Ok . . ." Cassie said, doubtfully.

"Let me tell you why. The reason I take these photos is to see, right off the bat, if you can photograph. You'd be surprised at how many girls can't. Doesn't matter how gorgeous they are, it just doesn't translate. But not you."

She traced her finger on one of the pictures.

"You, my girl, have been blessed. You have natural beauty—unique, original—and you are photogenic. And you have that body. Do you know how rare that combination is?"

She just looked at her and shook her head. What did she know?

"But all of these things are completely out of your control. You've been blessed, and you've been lucky—so far—and that's it. And most of all, you're lucky to have met me. Do you know why?"

Again she shook her head.

She waved her hand around her office, at all the magazine covers, the famous models Cassie had instantly recognized.

"These are all mine. All my prodigies. Every single one of them has sat right where you are now. You could be one of them. That's what I've been contemplating for an hour. You could be huge, Cassandra."

She was like some kind of demented fairy godmother. Cassie couldn't tell if she was dreaming or not. But she couldn't help blurting out, "How?"

"Ah," she glanced at her. "Good question. Because it doesn't just 'happen' out of thin air! This—" she gestured all around her office. "All this needs to be created! Developed! That is what I know how to do. That is what I love to do."

"In order to be good—to be more than good, to be special, extraordinary, a girl you never, ever forget—you need three things. Do you know what those are, Cassandra?"

"I'll tell you. The first two are easy. First, you need marketing. Management. Publicity. That's me. That's my role. Second, you need artistry. You need to work with the best people—hair, make-up, and of course, the right photographer. That I can get you. I can get you access to all of that. But the third, that's the hardest part. And it's something I cannot help you with."

"What's that?" Cassie asked.

"It's you, Baby Doll. It's what you're capable of doing. Who you're capable of being and becoming, in front of the camera."

"What do you mean?"

She waved her hand again, as if it was too mysterious to explain.

"You can't just stand there like a block of wood! You can't be . . . just anyone. You have to project. Express yourself. BE yourself. It's not just exterior beauty. No, it's much more."

"I can't teach it to you. It has to come from you, and only you. The magic. The indefinable magic that makes you unforgettable."

She glanced down again at her photos.

"I see potential here, Cassandra, oh yes. But it's only potential. I see something in you, I don't know what. It's deep, and glimmering, like an opal . . . but dull. Asleep. It's going to take some work to see if you really have it."

"What do I have to do?" Cassie said.

Freya reached down into her desk and retrieved an envelope. She held it in her taloned hands, caressing it.

She murmured, "Before we go any further, I need to be clear about a few things."

"Yes?" 

"If I take you on, if I make you one of MY girls, if I put myself out there for you, I do NOT want to be disappointed. I need to know that you want this, that you are willing to do whatever it takes, work as hard as you need to, do whatever I tell you to do. Are you willing to do this?"

Cassie stared into her cold, black eyes.

She saw that she was intelligent. Very, very intelligent. She had a brilliant mind and a cunning grasp of the business of modelling. She understood it like no one else. It was why she was who she was. Cassie got that. And she knew that she needed it. She would be a fool to say no.

But she didn't fool herself. As she looked into her eyes, she saw nothing but a void. This woman had no heart, and no soul. Cassie was a commodity to her—a diamond, a gem, she was going to polish up and sell like an exquisite toy. Cassie knew it, and she knew she was almost making a deal with the devil.

And then there was Larry, and the memory of the way he had looked at her, that first time. The love and caring in his eyes when he told her she was beautiful. She hung onto that, as she stared at Freya, knowing that she was keeping a part of herself—the most important part—in reserve, untouched by her, and nodded and said, "Ok."

Freya smiled at her—a creepy, almost malicious little smile—and said, "Good. Then let's get started."

She handed her the envelope, and said, "Inside there you will find a schedule and some instructions and directions. For the next two weeks or so, you will be visiting photographers and getting your picture taken. A lot. I have set you up with some of the top names in the business. And Cassandra—" she eyed her with her inky black stare. "This isn't just to get some good photos. I want to see how professional you can be. You are to show up, ON TIME. You show up. I don't care if we have another Hurricane Sandy. You show up where you're supposed to be, ready and able to work. Are we clear?"




Baby Doll



"Yes," she said. "I will."

"Ok, then. You'll be having your go-sees, the artists will send their work to me, and we'll meet again in a week to go over your progress so far."

"Ok, but . . . what do I need to do?"

"Whatever they say. Get some modeling under your belt. See what it's like. I'll be curious to hear your impressions."

"Ok."

She gestured, as if was time for her to go. Before Cassie had even left, she was back to perusing the photos, and murmuring to herself.

+++

Cassie journeyed home trying to absorb everything the woman had said. 

On the one hand, it was a bit surprising, and overwhelming . . . on the other hand, it wasn't. If she was truly honest with herself, she had to admit Freya hadn't told her that much that she didn't already know, deep down. It was why she never stopped looking at magazines. She knew she belonged there, and that she could be good. More than good, she could be great. She could be everything Freya had said she could be. 

But she didn't even call her friends. She didn't feel the need to shout about it. She was curious, extremely curious, and there was no doubt she wanted to succeed. As much as she disliked this Freya woman Cassie was savvy enough to recognize if she wanted to succeed, she had to lot to learn from that crusty old hag. There was something to be said about knowing the value of a diamond in the world, and going for it. Why shouldn't she? Why shouldn't she take advantage of it? 

Cassie knew her life was going to change. She could almost see it, unrolling before her. But she was exactly the same girl she always had been, and this was just . . . a career. A path out into the world. And she was going to use her mind and keep her head on straight.

The first thing to do was tell her father. Everything. She hated having kept this a secret from him even this long. She ached to be in his arms. She longed for his warmth, his body, his love, to dispel the coldness in those empty eyes. +++

Larry's reaction to her news was just as Cassie expected. She told him everything when she was cuddled into his chest in their favorite chair in the apartment later that night. 

After getting mad at her for not telling him and going into the city to meet a stranger all alone, he demanded to see the envelope filled with directions, her schedule and who exactly she'd be seeing and what she'd be doing. After convincing himself it was legit and his daughter was not walking into some twisted scheme, he pulled her into his arms and said just what he felt.

"Well, of course. Once they see how beautiful you are, everyone's going to love you."

Cassie smiled at him. It was sweet, if a bit naïve. But she loved him for it.

"You think I'm beautiful?" she said, as she kissed his neck.

"Yes, baby, I do."

"Did you miss Daddy, Princess?" Larry said. "Did you sleep well after, uh . . . "

"Yes," Cassie said, suddenly gushing with love for him. She scooted around to straddle his lap, her legs on either side of his thighs, and her arms crossed around his neck. Her short dress rode up, leaving her thighs bare almost up to her crotch. She rocked back on his hardness, her tight cheeks pushing on his cock, as she kissed his neck.

"Yes," she whispered. "I always sleep well after I come for you."

"Mmmm . . . " Larry could not help groaning, and Cassie felt his cock swell even harder against her ass. 

"I do, Daddy. Your Baby Girl loves coming for you, while you watch."

"Mmmmmm . . ." God! Larry couldn't stand it! She was so fucking sexy! "Do you, Baby Doll?"

"Mmmm, yes. In fact . . . " she pressed her lips against his ear. "I want to do something for you. Right now."

"What's that?" he whispered. 

"Well," said Cassie, as she swung off his lap and stood up, "If I'm going to pose for people, then I want you to be the first one."

"Oh?" said Larry, intrigued. "You want to pose for Daddy?"

"Well, sort of, yes," said Cassie. "I want you to see me. All of me."

Larry had seen her—parts of her, aspects of her, but never completely, never in the way she wanted right now. She held his gaze as she reached for her dress. 

There was a single lamp in the otherwise dark apartment. It made her ivory skin luminescent, her copper hair rich with shimmering tints of gold. When she pulled her dress off and over her head, her tall, slender body, clad in tiny panties and bra, seemed to shine forth its own iridescent light. Her curves were as elegant as a calla lily, and beckoned for his touch. She raised herself on her tiptoes, arms stretched overhead, reaching and swaying, and turned around, so he could see her from every angle. 

He watched with fascination. She was a goddess, discovering herself in his gaze. He sensed that she was becoming more aroused by this than he, and he gave her just what she needed—adoring love and desire. When she undid her bra, and her nipples sprang out swollen and erect, it was because he was watching. When she cupped her breasts in her hands, feeling their weight, their softness, their warmth, holding them like a succulent offering to the universe, it was for him alone. She touched them as if feeling their capacity for pleasure for the first time. She pushed them together, made an exaggerated gasp when she ran her fingertips over her nipples, watching them swell and puff up. She squeezed them between her arms and bent forwards, watching the light play over them, sighing with delight. 

She stood and turned towards him, smiling, and slowly tugged down her silk panties. 

As much as they had played and touched themselves for each other, Larry had never seen her completely naked, and he had yet to see her bare pussy. She was entirely shaved except for a little triangle of copper hair drawing his gaze to her perfect, slightly spread lips. 

"Do you like it?"

"Oh yes, Baby Girl," Larry murmured, his gaze locked onto her sweet little mound, "Yes, Daddy likes it, very much."

Cassie hadn't foreseen the intense urge that came over her at this moment, and she hadn't planned on what she was about to do.

She took his hand and led him over to a chair close to the king-sized bed, and stood close to him, opening her thighs, and twisting back and forth.

"Can I do something for you?" she whispered.

Larry leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. He saw her glance down towards his crotch, and he spread his legs a bit, giving her a nice glimpse of his hugely swollen cock. 

"What's that? You want to show yourself to Daddy, is that what you want to do?"

Cassie played her game—twisted some more, and nodded. 

"Go ahead. Daddy will be right here."

"Mmmmm," Cassie said, so turned on she could barely speak. 

She was trembling as she crawled onto the bed and propped herself up on some pillows, with her feet and legs directly in front of him.

"It's ok," Larry whispered, knowing what she wanted to hear. "Let me see you."

Cassie hesitated. She had never been so aroused, so hot and horny and ready to come. She wanted to spread her legs and show her wet, hot pussy, all of it, to Daddy. She had wanted this for a very long time.

She placed her hands on her inner thighs, and pushed, spreading herself, wider and wider until she was splayed open, knees bent and toes pointed like a ballet dancer. Ohhhhhh . . . 

The intensity of her arousal was beyond description. Knowing he was looking at her, that he could see her pussy, glistening with her juices, the beautiful pink and white folds shaved smooth for him, the lips quivering and her clit swelling and twitching all for him—it was too much! She squirmed, and moaned, and squeezed her thighs together, then opened them even wider—together, and apart, getting wetter and wetter. 

Larry tore himself away from the mind-blowing sight and went to her, as she was whining and mewling and crying for release. He lay down next to her and stroked her face.

"It's ok, Baby, you need to come. Come for Daddy. I'm here."

Cassie cried out as his voice triggered spasms deep from her belly, exploding from her clit, and sending convulsions through her body. 

She yelled out, "Daddy! Ohhhhh!" as her head shot backwards and her orgasm shook her from head to toe, as he watched and stroked her face. 

"Mmmmmm . . . mmmmmm . . ." Cassie moaned and moaned, so happy, so delighted, so at peace. "Ohhhhh . . . "

+++

Later, looking back over what transpired over the next few weeks, Cassie often thought that it shouldn't have been so hard. She was so ripe, so ready—a blossoming flower just waiting to be plucked, and have her beauty shown to the world. 

But it didn't happen that way.

Her introduction to the modeling world was not easy, and quite an education. It would be, in fact, the most difficult time of her entire career. 

She was sent out on gigs, every day, finding her way around the city, meeting photographers, getting into hair and make-up, and learning how to pose and what to do. She thought it might be "fun," or "enjoyable," she thought she would "learn" some things. But really the only thing she learned was how worthless models were regarded, how stupid they were assumed to be, and how no one cared about her in the least. She was a prop, an object; her function was to shut up and do as she was told. 

All of that was slightly expected; this was a job, after all, and she hadn't thought anyone was going to hold her hand and ask her about her feelings. 

But what did shock her was how the photographers treated her.

She assumed, from Freya's description of it, they wanted something good from her; that they wanted her, what she specifically had to offer. If they weren't going to become her best friend, they were at least supposed to get the best possible work out of her. 

But that didn't turn out to be the case. Her very first experiences were pretty telling.

She had no idea what to expect for her very first "go-see." All she had in her mind was standing in that prison-like room with her toes on the yellow line, doing nothing but smiling. 

She made her way to a small studio in the Village, on an out-of-the-way street. It was easy to spot the place. It was painted black, and had blinking pink and yellow neon signs around the door. Across the entrance, fluorescent orange letters spelled out, "Welcome to Hell! Come Inside!"

Inside Cassie could hear laughing and shouting over blaring metal music. Sounded like quite the party. She rang the bell, and a pretty, petite blond opened the door.

"Hi! Cassie, right? I'm Joy. Come on in." She had to shout over the 10-decible music. 

The voluptuous woman was poured into a black latex micro-mini skirt and bustier, and she wore thigh-high latex boots with about 7 inch heels. Her blond hair was yanked into a slick, high pony tail. 

She was very friendly, and seemed quite professional.

"So let's get you set up. I'm all ready to go. My girls will get you into make-up and wardrobe."

An hour later, Cassie emerged from the dressing room wondering what in the world was going on. She looked just like Joy. They had fixed her up in the shortest, tightest skirt she had ever seen, and strapped her into a low-cut latex bustier that made her breasts spill out all over the place. She had stiletto boots, and her red hair had been slicked into the same high ponytail.

"Oh, fantastic! You look amazing! Come on!" Joy shouted over the noise.

She led her to the photo set-up—it was a single chair, with a light bulb hanging down, in a small, glittery, almost mirrored room. 

Joy immediately got behind her camera.

"Ok, Baby Doll, let's have some fun!"

Cassie just stood there, panicked. She had no idea what to do. Was she supposed to dance?

"Come on, sexy, you can do it!"

"Um . . ." Cassie turned, and bent, a little, and stiffly smiled. 

"No, no, no . . . here . . . let me show you . . ."

Joy came out from behind the camera, pushed her out of the way and yelled, "Crank it up!"

The rock music shot up a few more notches, and Cassie watched as Joy turned into a kind of whirling dervish, grinding her hips, swinging her long blond ponytail, masterfully bumping and grinding and gyrating on the chair. 

"See? You can do it! Just watch me!"

She sat on the chair, pushing up her tits, spreading her legs and humping her latex-clad crotch into the air. 

"Let your inner demon out, baby girl! Whoooo!"

Cassie watched, mystified and horrified. Was she really supposed to do all that?!

Eventually, Cassie managed a few shots bent over the chair, one leg up, her ass stuck high into the air.

"Spread your thighs more, a bit more. Show it off! Nothing wrong with that sweet little pussy!"

Cassie bent further, did a little grind, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. She couldn't wait for it to end!

"Ooooh that's hot. Swing your ponytail, that's good!"

Bit by bit, she did exactly what she was told. She spread, and gyrated, and pushed, and swiveled. That's what Joy wanted, apparently, so that's what she did. And it appeared to work.

"Mmmmm, fantastic. Hot. Sexy. You're doing great." Joy shouted, as the cameras clicked like mad.

At last, it was over. Cassie felt like she was going to cry.

But Joy seemed happy. She walked Cassie to the door after she'd changed into her normal clothes. 

"Amazing job, Cassie. AMAZING." 

She gave her a big, sweet hug. 

"You're fantastic, sweetheart. I'll send the pics over to Freya. Hope it all works out. Bye."

Cassie left stunned and terrified. Is this what modeling was going to be like all the time?

+++

Her next job wasn't any more encouraging, but at least not as hard. 

This photographer, Thomas T. "Tex" Jones, was famous. She knew who he was because of all the fashion magazines she had read. He was very tall, had long silvery white hair and was known for always wearing a black ten-gallon hat, no matter the event, which increased his height even more.

He'd made it big back in the 80's. Or maybe it was the 70's. He still had a kind of rep, but more for his past work than anything he was doing now. Many people considered him a has-been. Still, he was the only one she had heard of.

He was known for his "aggressively sexual" style. She remembered seeing some of his early images. He liked voluptuous women with big breasts, slathered in Dynasty-style lip gloss, done up in big Texas hair. He shot them bending over, licking their lips, spreading their designer-clad legs, or pushing their huge breasts together. 

But that was all a long time ago. 

She was petrified taking the subway to his loft in Soho. This was a man who had shot every single famous model she could name. She almost chickened out.

His studio was in a cold industrial-style concrete cube of a building. Her hand was shaking when she pushed the buzzer. 

She never even met the guy. She was greeted by stressed out assistants who immediately pulled her into wardrobe and make-up. They were so tense! They all had walkie-talkies and hissed instructions at each other every five seconds. 

"Is Tex in yet?"

"Are the lights set up?"

"Ok, he's in the elevator."

They put her in a fire engine red bikini comprised of three equilateral triangles the size of silver dollars strung together with dental floss. The only things that were covered were her nipples and her little mound. Her ass was completely naked except for a single string going down the center. She had a metric ton of make-up on her face, the lip gloss so thick and so red it looked like she'd dipped her mouth in a vat of cherry pie filling.

They brought her to the stage; all she had to do, apparently, was stand against a white background. 

She was standing there, alone and almost shivering, when the great artist came in. He merely glanced in her direction. His assistants came running up and Cassie overheard him say "What is this?" After a few whispers, he hissed, "That fucking cunt. She acts like she's doing me a favor, 'sending' me a new girl. Like I need her."

"Well, actually, Tex, you do. This girl is a hot prospect. You could really turn things around." 

"Well whaddya got for me?"

Apparently his assistants had done all the work; all he had to do was push the button. 

He got behind a huge camera and before you know it Cassie was being told exactly how to pose. Not to smile, but to stick her ass out, squeeze her tits together, fluff her big hair, and purse her lips. It was the easiest assignment. All she had to do was bend and look dumb. She couldn't imagine anyone would think this was sexy. At one point they brought in a sort of couch and had her sit with her legs spread very wide and leaning far back so her breasts were pushed up to the ceiling. 

Tex liked that shot. He was breathing heavily as he maneuvered himself so he was practically shoving that over-sized camera between her legs. 

And that was it. He never said one word to her. 

As Cassie was leaving, she heard him saying to one of his assistants, "Well, I'll give Freya one thing. This little bitch is hot."

And then she was sent on her way.

+++

That first day, Cassie was never in her life happier to be home.

She pulled up to the store in one of her brother's cars, which she had borrowed for the week, and went out to the greenhouse to find them.

She went right up to Joe, the first one she saw, and snuggled up to him with a big hug, and whispered in his ear, "I love you, big brother."

"I love you, too, Baby Doll, you know I do. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Can't I just tell my brother I love him?" she said. He didn't know about what she was doing; she didn't feel like explaining her day. She just felt relieved to see his familiar face.

She sat in the greenhouse and chatted with him for a long time, and then Josh when he joined them. She laughed, and relaxed, and forgot about everything she had done that day—the ponytail, the gyrating, the fire engine red bikini, the cherry pie lip gloss. They were as meaningless here as skyscrapers and subways. 

"So did Josh tell you his big news?" Joe asked her.

"No, what's that?"

Josh grinned. "Oh, nothing. Just asked Amy to marry me."

"And they're buying a house. That one right down the street. Dad's helping him with the down payment."

"Aw . . . that's awesome. Congrats, Josh, I'm happy for you."

Cassie had often wondered if Josh and Joe would "move on," go to college, find new careers . . . but it was becoming clear they would never leave the family business, or leave Larry. 

She knew how much they idolized him, with a love bordering on reverence. As much as they might not admit it, he was their Daddy, too. Which is why she felt a special closeness with them.

They talked a bit more. Larry was seeking to expand the business in the northern part of the state, perhaps open another shop. They chattered on excitedly about what they were going to do. 

Eventually she wandered upstairs to lie down. 

She was surprised, after it was all over and she was safely back home, how angry she felt. And disgusted and frustrated. Did they want her or not? Or was she supposed to try and look like any other girl that came along? She didn't look good in latex, not with her delicate skin, and red was really not her color. What were they doing? She didn't get it. And what was with all the barking orders at her, and telling her what to do? Talking about her as if she wasn't right there in front of their face?

One thing was for sure—one day had completely cured her of her delusion that this was going to be anything like getting dressed up for Larry. Posing for Larry. Being sweet and pretty and sexy as "Daddy" watched. What had she been thinking? 

Part of her wanted to drop the whole entire thing. Right now, after this very first day. But she didn't, because of the crusty old hag. Maybe it was all part of the test of how "professional" she could be. She didn't give up on her intuition that Freya knew what she was doing—this must all be part of the mysterious process, and she wasn't going to cry and give up.




Baby Doll



She sighed and curled up on her bed, with her pillow. It was late, and she had a long day tomorrow. She had to get up extremely early to make her train.

Sometime later, she thought she heard her door opening, and saw light spilling in from the hallway. She thought she sensed a tall figure, who smelled of grass and aftershave. She might have felt a big warm hand stroke her hair, and touch her cheek, and whisper "Sleep well, Princess." She wasn't sure if she had dreamt it or not, but she murmured, "'Night, Daddy," and smiled, and sunk back into a deep, restful slumber.

+++

The next few days were a grind. Larry and her brothers were away together, up north, and Cassie left early and arrived home late at night, exhausted.

She saw several more photographers, trekking all over the city, and even into Brooklyn. 

While not as colorful as her first two appointments, they were all equally disappointing.

She'd arrive, ready and eager to get started. She never met with the photographers—or as they were known, the "artists." She was taken directly into wardrobe and make-up, and she'd be led onto a spotlit stage. Everything would be all set up, and the artist would just magically appear behind the camera. The looks were pretty much standard designer clothes; apparently the latex and bikinis were somewhat unusual—something the more ambitious artists chose to do. Most were simply professional and, she thought, a bit dull. There was no real excitement, no pleasure; she felt like she was on a constantly turning conveyer belt. She passed girls just like her, in and out, running to the subway, clutching their schedules, checking their phones. It wasn't fun, it wasn't sexy, it wasn't anything but work. 

And it was frustrating. She felt like they just weren't "getting" her. How could they? It was like a factory. In and out and impersonal.

On a Friday before she had a break for the weekend, she was set to meet with Freya in Manhattan and talk about her work so far. And she had texted Larry and found out he'd be home—alone—that night, so she woke up happy and excited for what the day would bring.

Several hours later, she was in the waiting room of FM Modeling. After a long time, she was finally ushered inside the executive office.

"Cassandra . . ." came the familiar purr. "Sit down. I was just looking at your photos."

Freya had half-glasses on a sparkling gold chain perched on her nose, and was sitting behind a large computer screen clicking her mouse. 

Cassie waited, and waited. After 20 minutes, Freya tore off her glasses with a sigh and pinched her nose, as if she had a headache.

She was mumbling to herself. "Maybe I went at it wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have said it was me."

Cassie had no idea what was going on.

"So, um . . . was I not . . . good?" Cassie said, timidly.

"You? No. No. You did well, Cassie. It's these idiots, these artists. How fucking hard can it be? I mean for god's sake, look at you!"

Freya sighed, and said, "Come over here."

Cassie stood up behind her and together they scrolled through the digital photos. All of her. All of her shoots. 

Freya was clearly not pleased. 

"I mean, what was Joy thinking? She's got you looking like a pole dancer at the Rhinoceros Club. No, no, NO."

Then she brought up "Tex's" pictures, of her in the red bikini. Cassie gasped out loud.

"Tell me, what do you think of that, Cassandra?"

Cassie thought about it a second, and said, honestly, "I look like I'm trying to sell a car. Like, in a mall. In New Jersey."

Freya smiled. "Exactly. The local beauty queen trotting around a Honda showroom. It's Texas pageant. It's cheap Vegas crap. It's not YOU."

One by one, they scrolled through the photos. Cassie saw herself—well, her body, her features—but nothing of her personality, nothing of how she knew she could feel when she dressed up. She looked pretty, but there was nothing sexy, nothing hot, certainly nothing erotic or enticing. She was a pretty girl in pretty clothes, that's all. The best things about the photos, actually, were the settings, the clothes, the quality of the lighting and the photo itself. All, exquisitely crafted, in a technical sense. Masterfully done, but . . . cold.

Freya sighed. 

"You know what's happening, what they're doing? They're trying to impress me. They know I sent you, they want to make it 'good,' so they're trying to outdo themselves with their style. I mean, that's what I see. I see gorgeous photos. What I don't see is the beautiful girl I sent to them."

Cassie went and took up her seat, wondering what the next step was. Freya seemed deep in thought.

"So tell me, what did you think of the people you worked with? What about Joy?"

Cassie could not stop the look of horror that came over her face. "Do I have to do that?"

"What?"

"All that . . . bumping and grinding?"

"Yes, if they say so. What else?"

"Hmmm . . . well, it seemed like she wanted to be in front of the camera, not behind it."

Freya smiled. "Yes, she does make all of her models look exactly like herself. When it works, it can be good, but . . . it's limited. What about Tex?" 

Freya peered at her in a sidelong glance. She saw Cassie clam up and withdraw, as if protecting herself. "I don't like him."

"Oh?"

"No. And he called you a 'fucking cunt.'"

"Did he, now? That cocksucking prick. Well, it's a lesson learned, Cassandra. In this business, you have to kiss a lot of ass, stroke a lot of egos. You may as well learn that right up front. And Tex Jones has the biggest of them all." 

"Alright," she said, as if wrapping things up. "Well, at least it wasn't all a total waste."

"Why?" asked Cassie. 

"Because of you. I heard nothing but good things about you, Cassie. And believe it or not, you're doing great work. This isn't your fault. So!"

"Yes?"

"We keep working. Keep looking. You have another round next week, and then we'll see where we stand, alright?"

"Alright."

"Keep your chin up. I've got you lined up with some new folks next week. Maybe they won't be so eager to please." +++

That night, Cassie did a few errands in the city before heading home. She picked up a few special things, for Larry, and arrived home, with nothing to do but relax. She was feeling good. Hopeful. She'd made it through one week. And now she had nothing to do but look forward to being with him. He was due back in a while, so she slept, then spent some time getting ready.

Even though they had the house to themselves, she'd texted him and said to meet her in "their" place. Larry got the text in his truck, on the road, on the way home, and it sent a jolt to his groin, as visions of her waiting for him in the apartment came into his head. He'd missed her terribly this week. But he was also more torn about it than he had ever been.

He was so swept up in it . . . they both were . . . they had not spent any time talking about consequences, the future. . . he just didn't want to look that far, and he had a sense she didn't either. But spending so much time with his boys the past few days had forced him to consider it—he could never tell them. They must never know. And what kind of future was that? 

Nothing he could envision, nothing in this world, could ever come close to this kind of love and lust. They both knew it; it's why they could not stay away, and pushed out the real world, and didn't think about the future. 

They were in the grip of an incestuous attraction so powerful, so unique, so utterly its own thing. He thought about trying to end it . . . but thinking about losing it, denying it, depriving her of it, too . . . seemed just as equally, horribly wrong as what they were doing, or his sons finding out . . .

He wasn't quite sure what to do. He only knew . . . it was not seeing her, not being around her, that seemed to clear his head. If he saw her, if he touched her, if he held her, he was completely lost. 

He got back, and saw the light on at the back of the property.

He considered going inside the house, to resist, for at least as long as it took to change his clothes. But he could not. He headed straight to the back yard, drawn there, his cock swelling, every cell in his body on fire. 

The door was unlocked, and he pushed it open.

There was only the dimmest light, and he didn't see her at first. 

"Cassie? Baby?" he called out.

He heard a little sound and followed it into the bedroom. 

And when he saw her, arranged on the bed, waiting for him, he had his answers. She gave them to him, as surely as he had given them to her when he asked her if she ever thought about "Daddy." It was beyond their control. 

She was lying propped up, on some pillows, her legs spread wide. She was wearing silky white thigh highs, and she was posing just as she had before, with her hands on her inner thighs, holding herself splayed open, her adorable silk-clad feet pointed inwards, ready, wet, and aching for him. Between her legs, she had a large pink dildo pushed full inside her.

Her face was expertly done up; he'd never seen her looking more exquisitely gorgeous. She had her thick hair pulled back in a blue headband which matched her powder blue baby doll teddy. A ribbon tied around her bursting tits, waiting for him to just pull them free. Her pink nipples pushed through the filmy, transparent fabric, hard and clearly aroused.

Cassie had planned this. She had been so frustrated all week, forced into those stifling, boring jobs, standing there letting other people dress her up and tell her what to do. All week she had been dreaming of how she would want to Larry to see her. 

"Please!" Cassie gasped.

Larry didn't hesitate; he went right to her.

His hand found the silky skin of her trembling inner thigh and traveled slowly upwards, seeking out the dildo, holding it for a minute by the base before pushing, hard, deep inside.

"Shh, shh, . . ." Larry said, trying to calm her intense agitation. "Shh, baby, it's ok . . ."

"Oh!" Cassie gasped, and began to writhe, her hips desperately seeking out the pressure of that fake cock in his hands, now under his control. "Pleeease . . . " she begged and pleaded. "Oh, more, more!"

"Ah, Daddy!" she practically screamed. Larry was now leaning over her, using one arm to gently thrust up into her wet, sopping pussy, already dripping and gushing down her thighs. With the other he caressed her face, pushed back her hair, trying to soothe her and calm her down. He watched her face as he fucked her, watched her eyes widening with shock at the intense sensations spreading out from the dildo. 

"Shh, baby, relax . . ."

Cassie's gasps and moans grew more hysterical as he gently fucked her, using his hands to rub her hard clit with each firm, deliberate thrust. She was in a state, gasping with surprise. She'd never felt anything quite like this. Her lips opened, her eyes glazed over, as he began to press into a spot that made her cry out with each gentle push.

"There, baby. Good?" Larry whispered.

"Yes, there, THERE, please oh please don't stop . . .!" Cassie gasped.

He kissed her neck as she twisted and moaned, and thrust her hips up against his hand, bumping her clit and sending wild, escalating waves of pleasure outwards from that spot deep inside. Larry sensed it was her first time coming this way, and only regretted—deeply regretted—that it wasn't his own cock inside her. He was wrong. He'd been so wrong about things. He was wrong to hold off, and tease her, and make them both wait. She was in such a state, and it was all his fault.

"Shh, baby . . . Cassie . . . Daddy's going to fuck you, I promise . . . next weekend . . . We shouldn't have waited. I've been so crazy for my Baby Girl! Mmmm . . . you look so beautiful, honey . . . you needed this, it's ok . . . let yourself come, come for Daddy, Baby Girl, now . . . yes, there you go . . ."

Cassie screamed out loud in release, at the pressure of that dildo and the excitement of his words. She thought of fucking him, of his cock bringing her this pleasure, and she couldn't bear it, it was too much! 

"Oh God, Daddy, I want to be your little girl! Oh, make me your sweet little girl, make me come, promise, oh, promise!"

"I promise, baby . . . we won't wait anymore. Shhh. . . "

Cassie's scream trickled off into incoherent cries, whimpers, her eyes leaking tears at the incredible pleasure that rocked her body, knowing it was only a taste. 

Minutes later he had her trembling, sweating body in his arms and he was shushing her, and smoothing her hair. Cassie leaned up to hold his face, and kiss him fully and deliberately on the lips.

"You've been very silly, Larry."

"Why's that, Baby Doll?"

"You knew how much your Baby Girl needed this. You worried too much."

"Cassie, baby, I'm only thinking of you . . ."

"And I thought of you, too—all week. I never needed you or loved you or wanted you more, or was more sure of it."

Larry held her eyes, wondering what she meant.

"Why, baby?"

"Because of everything I'm seeing, and learning, and how people are . . . No," she said firmly, "This is not wrong. No one will ever love me as much as you. And I will never trust anyone as much as I trust you. I need you. I need this. It's not wrong. And I know I'll need you even more in the future."

Cassie never even considered telling Larry the whole truth about her life, the people she had seen. She knew if she told him about "Tex" he'd get the gun he kept hidden somewhere in the house and go hunt him down. There were things he did not need to know.

"So we'll go to the shore next weekend?" she said, sweetly cuddling up to him.

"Yes, baby, I promise."

"Oh!"

Cassie felt his big cock swell under her ass. And she didn't shy away from touching it. She ran her fingers up and down the length as she kissed him deeply on the lips.

"And will you teach me . . . everything . . ."

"Yes, Baby Girl."

"Mmmmm . . ." 

+++

The next week seemed to pass quickly, in a blur. She—they—were so happy, their secret knowledge made every minute of the day fly by in delicious anticipation. 

Larry was extremely busy with work, and some days they only saw each other for a few minutes before bed. But they were secret and special, even if they only held hands, linking their fingers together for a few minutes in the hallway outside the bathroom. They had no extended time to be together, but they wouldn't have wanted it anyway. 

Larry was in a semi-perpetual state of arousal, his cock ready to spring up and out from his groin at a moment's notice, thinking about being with her. 

Cassie floated through her "go-sees" unfazed, but nevertheless astounded at how utterly clueless they all seemed to be.

She could not have been more primed. More ready to give herself, easily and openly. The hotness and sexuality just oozed out of her, for anyone who cared to look. She'd walk down the city streets and every male eye would go to her, drawn not only by her beauty but the secret smile playing around her mouth, the drowsy look of lust in her eye that any man could read.

And then she'd get to the photo shoot, and she may as well have been covered up with a burlap sack for all they noticed.

Her first assignment that week was undeniably weird.

She was told to show up in Central Park, in a leafy place by a sort of creek trailing off from the reservoir. Trailers and lights and cameras were all set up when she got there, right on time.

A short, mousy woman came up to her, saying "Hiiiiiiii! Cassie—right? Aren't you adorable! Well come on, let's get you all set up!"

Her name was Patti Love, and apparently she was up-and-coming. Cassie was completely new to this, but still she could tell that Patti was, too. She was insecure and worried and fussed about everything. 

While Cassie was getting made up, Patti hung out with her in the trailer, which was kind of odd. The artists generally didn't "hang" with the models. But she did. And the whole time, all she did was grill Cassie about Freya Malle.

"Freya's amazing. Incredible. The nicest woman in the business! I mean, I love her! I couldn't believe it when she called me. Tell her I said hello, please? How did you meet her, anyway?"

She went on and on. Pretty soon Cassie figured out all the motherly caring was just a ruse. She just wanted to suck up to her so she would go tell Freya about it. Patti was the first of this type she met, but certainly not the last—the stargazers, hoping for riches and fame, willing to do anything to get it.

The shoot was so weird. Cassie had very tender, delicate skin, so she thought it odd that Patti wanted her outside in the bushes. It was not a very attractive setting. And she had her standing there for so long! It took hours. She obsessed over every shot, kept changing her mind, second-guessing what she was doing, explaining herself, while Cassie stood there itching and getting bitten by little bugs. 

Finally, it was over. But Patti just didn't seem to want to let Cassie go. As she was packing her stuff away, she was in the trailer, again, this time trying to find out about her schedule.

"Oh, you are just too cute! How are you? Are you doing ok? So, wait, do you mind if I—"

She yanked the schedule of appointments out of Cassie's hand and poured over it with wide eyes, muttering to herself.

"You're seeing Charlie Wolf? Oh my god, he's a genius! And Tex Jones? Brilliant! So hot! Absolute masters! Oh my god, Freya really thinks I'm good enough to be on the same list?! I mean, they've won every fashion award there is! Who else is there, who else?" 

She kept muttering to herself.

"I wonder what Charlie will do with you. Damn it, I knew I should have gone dark. Maybe we should do a re-shoot. I don't know, maybe in the studio. I bet Tex will do something really sexy. His work is so hot. I knew I should have gone for more sex, I knew it!"

Cassie stood up to go, gently tearing her schedule away from Patti's clutching fingers.

She was another one, another artist, so obsessed with her "work" Cassie may as well have been invisible. 

Leaving Central Park, she was beginning to think it was all going to fail.

+++

That week she met with the legendary Charlie Wolf. 

She had heard so many people whisper about his genius, she was quite surprised when she opened the door to his loft in the Village. She was expecting, she didn't know, a forceful, dominant man, probably gorgeous, confident. She'd heard so much she was a bit excited.

But the guy who opened the door was skinny, and soft-spoken, and her very first thought was, "Oh, he has a halo."

She knew that sounded odd. It would happen every now and then. She'd meet people who had a kind of special glow that she alone recognized, because she had it. Maybe he'd lost his mother, or another parent. She just knew they were "special," in some way. 

From the looks of him, she couldn't have guessed what she would find inside.

His place was huge, and he led her through several rooms, including a gallery of portraits, on the way back to the photography studio. 

She saw all these artsy photos of models. Models being twisted into weird shapes. Models screaming, with blood streaming out of their eyes and mouth. Models with writing being carved into their bodies, and hands reaching in to tear out their hearts. Close-ups of vicious teeth ripping into sweet flesh. Lots of photos of naked models using strap-ons with each other, or using whips and being whipped. And then lots of ordinary women—mostly photos of aging strippers and pole dancers and prostitutes. Really sad-looking women. Hopeless. 

Yeah, he had a halo.

She peered up close to one of the labels and it said they were from his "Deconstructing Beauty" series, now on show at some gallery in SoHo. She had no idea what that meant. 




Baby Doll



He led her back and sat her down on a chair facing him. Apparently, he wanted to talk.

"So, Cassie . . . Stevens . . . tell me about you."

Cassie blinked. He was the very first photographer she'd met who'd asked her that. Not the last, but the first. 

"Well, um, what do you want to know?"

"So how did you end up here?"

"Oh, um, I was working at my store, and . . ." she launched into the saga of meeting Freya, before he interrupted her.

"No, no, I mean . . . why are you trying to be a model? What do you want out of it?"

"Well . . . "

He made her so nervous! What did he want from her? Her mind was full of all those horrible pictures, and she blurted out, "Do you want me to look like that?"

"Oh, you saw my work?" Clearly he was proud of it.

"Well, yes, obviously, on the way in."

"It disturbs you?"

"What is it? I don't get it. What's it about?"

"Hmmm. I like that. That you're curious. Most girls who come here don't even notice."

"Why do you make those things?"

"Well, let's just say . . . I like to question society's concepts of what's 'beautiful.'"

"Ho-kay . . ."

"Don't you think we all live in a kind of prison, Cassie . . . of expectations and ideals . . . they're unrealistic. Life is harsh and ugly, when it comes down to it."

She thought about it. Something about that wasn't making sense. Perhaps it wouldn't bother her so much if he didn't use models to make that point. "Yes, but . . . you're a fashion photographer, too. You shoot beautiful women. That's what you do."

He winced when she said that, as if he didn't like being reminded of that fact. "Well everyone needs to put bread on the table."

"So . . . what? You want me look ugly?"

"No, no, not for this shoot. This is a commission. I need the—" but he cut himself off.

"I do want to know how you feel, what you want out of it."

He was the first person to ask her that. 

She looked at him. She would have liked to tell him about how hot it made her, how erotic it could be. She even considered telling him about "Daddy." But those horrible pictures kept coming into her head. 

"Yes?" he queried.

"Nothing," she shrugged. "I guess I'm just kind of simple. I like looking pretty."

"Ok, right on, right on, we can do that."

He seemed disappointed.

It was an awkward shoot. Just . . . blah.

His assistants dressed her in black, which was not her best color. She felt it washed her out, though it did make her teeth positively shine. 

She shook his hand when she left. A nice guy. Weird, but nice. 

"Oh, hey, Cassie . . . anytime you feel like you're sick of being . . . 'pretty' . . . you should come back. Check out one of my shows."

"Um . . . alright." 

She couldn't see that happening, but it didn't matter.

By the end of the week, as she neared her last, final go-see, she had determined this all was probably not for her. It was truly pointless. She'd given it a shot, she'd done her best, and if they didn't want her, well, there was nothing she could do about it. 

So she wasn't expecting anything when she rang the buzzer of an apartment in Washington Square, high up in the top floor of an historic New York apartment building. Outside, there was a plaque saying it was the former abode of the photographer Alfred Stieglitz.

The elevator wasn't working, so she had to walk up nine flights of old, creaking stairs that were a mile wide. Otherwise, it was a beautiful place, with enormous windows flooding the high-ceilinged hallways with summer sunlight. 

She checked her list. "Chase Merrit." The very last person she was scheduled to see.

A pretty redhead opened the door.

"Hi, Cassie? I'm Molly—Chase's sister. Also his assistant. Come on in."

The minute she entered, Cassie got a different vibe from this place. It was home-y. Unpretentious. Obviously this guy was brand new to the industry, and lacked all the bells and whistles she saw everywhere else. And she loved the fact that his sister worked for him.

"So, come on in, and I'll get you ready."

The make-up and wardrobe area was just a single room with a vanity, and a rack of clothes against a wall.

"So, have a seat."

Molly began applying just the lightest touch of make-up. Cassie could not help asking her, "Uh . . . is that it? They usually put so much more on me."

"Hmmm . . . No," said Molly, concentrating intensely on her face. "You know, we have your pictures. Chase and I looked over them. You have such a natural beauty, Cassie. You don't need much. Just a bit of enhancement. There we go."

"Now, what about this?" She gestured to the rack of clothes. 

"What?"

"Well, don't you want to pick something out?"

"Oh! No one's ever asked me before. Usually they just tell me what to wear."

"Well, we can work together. What do you think?"

Cassie was quite shocked. She saw a rack of expensive designer clothes, but they were all men's. Beautiful, soft dress shirts. A few ties. A few pairs of boxers and t-shirts. And along with that, some simple cotton lingerie. She smiled. A deep, happy smile. 

"Why did you pick these clothes?"

"Hmmm . . . just a feeling, from looking at you . . . you have such a sweet face, Cassie, but you're so sexy. Chase and I just saw you this way."

"Well I like it. How about this one?" 

She reached for a pretty, powder blue men's shirt. 

"Excellent. And we can, you know . . . experiment. Let's start there."

Cassie was led to a kind of mock stage that was fixed to look like the interior of bedroom, with dark furniture. Clearly it was a man's bedroom, with a huge desk inside as well. 

"Hi—Cassie? I'm Chase. You all set?"

He was very cute. Tall, with brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and a strong, friendly handshake. She liked him immediately. 

"So why don't we start . . ." 

By this time, Cassie was so used to people barking orders at her and telling her exactly what to do, she just stood there, waiting.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Whatever you want."

"Well, I, um . . . I don't know. Usually they tell me what to do."

"Ah, I see. Well let me tell you how I like to work, Cassie. I think this should be fun for you. Enjoy yourself. Do you like modeling?"

"Yes . . . sometimes . . ."

"Oh? What about it?"

"Well, um . . ." she hesitated, suddenly feeling shy. "I think it can be . . . "

"Hot?" said Chase, unfazed, as he began to take some photos.

"Yes," she said, beginning to relax. She liked the way he was looking at her, with intense concentration on what he was seeing.

"Uh huh, so tell me . . . what do you like, Cassie? Boys, girls? Both?"

She smiled, and Chase clicked his camera, wanting to capture the sudden dreamy look that came over her face. 

"Boys . . . well, men."

"Older men?"

"Yes," she said. Cassie found herself moving to the big desk and leaning back on it. She was wearing the blue shirt, but it was buttoned up rather high. 

"Yeah? I had a feeling. So show me how it feels to have an older man look at you."

Well, that was easy to do. She relaxed . . . tilting her head a bit, and pushing her breasts forward.

"Nice. Beautiful, Cassie. Keep going. Wait, do you mind—"

Chase stepped out from behind the camera and came over to her, and reached for her blouse. 

"Is it ok? Why don't we . . . loosen you up a bit. Do you want to—?"

Cassie gazed into his eyes, happy to undo the first few buttons on the shirt. She even pushed it open, wanting to show some cleavage.

"Ok, wait, hang on, hang on, hold right there . . . there we go. Oh, perfect. Keep going, Cassie, relax, do whatever you want."

She leaned back further, squeezing her arms in the way she knew pushed her breasts together, in the way she knew she liked Larry to see her. 

She shifted a bit, spreading her thighs underneath the shirt. Suddenly a whole bunch of ideas came to her.

"Can I get on the bed?"

"Of course, Baby Doll," said Chase, enjoying himself, and snapping away.

Cassie unbuttoned the shirt even further, and bent back on her knees, and gazed sweetly at Chase. Before long, she knew she was wet, and she could see her nipples getting hard. And it all became so . . . easy. So pleasant! She just knew what to do. She kept her eyes on that lens, and thought about Daddy . . . 

"Fantastic, Cassie, fantastic." Chase's voice was soft, and sexy and encouraged her. It was genuine. She knew it was genuine because when he walked around to shift something beside her, she saw that he was hard. It was obvious. But he didn't do anything, just kept murmuring to her in that nice, soft voice as he continued to work.

"You know, Cassie . . . I don't know what all these other photographers have told you, but there's really only one secret to this business."

"What?" she asked. 

"Just turn yourself on, Baby Girl. It's not that hard."

She smiled. "Well, I have an idea."

"Go for it."

"I'd like to take my bra and panties off. Is that ok?"

"Of course. Molly—could you—"

Cassie loved the way these two worked together, like a team, deeply in touch with each other, and with her. Professional, yet . . . personal. And somehow so incredibly hot. 

Chase never stopped clicking as Cassie maneuvered to get her bra off, then wiggled out of her panties, and tossed them to Molly. Now she was completely nude, except for a blue pin-striped men's shirt she had changed into.

"Ok, I'm ready. No—wait."

Cassie unbuttoned the shirt all the way, opening it enough to show half her cleavage, pushed together. She hid her pussy expertly with her fingers as she posed on her knees, this way and that, using the man's shirt as if it were the most erotic sex toy ever invented. 

Chase murmured to his sister, "Babe, why don't you get Cassie a tie?"

Two hours later, Chase walked her to the door. They didn't say much. 

Cassie held a little bag they'd given her, with some shirts from the shoot inside it as a kind of souvenir.

She was in a state. So horny she could not breathe. She turned to face him, and slid sideways, accidentally pushing on the buzzer, as if she were drunk.

"Oops! Thank you. That was . . . uh . . ."

Chase smiled back at her. 

"Look, Cassie, I don't want to speak too soon, but I think we got some AMAZING stuff today. You're . . . incredible. I think you're going to do really well."

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

Chase laughed. "Well, look, I'd love to work with you again. Both Molly and I. You're a natural. Fantastic job."

"Alright. I'd love that. And, um . . . say thanks to your sister for me."

"I will," he said.

"Have a good weekend on the shore with Larry."

"I will, bye."

As she walked to the subway, still in a dream, she smiled to herself, thinking, wondering . . . she'd bet anything those two were in a relationship. She'd bet her soul. 

It had gone well . . . better than she could have dreamed . . . but the minute she left Manhattan, she pushed the whole modeling thing out of her mind. She was done, at least for the time being, and now she had nothing to do but look forward to the weekend. And how happy she was for that.

All she wanted to do was be with Larry. Nothing else mattered. It could not be wrong. She couldn't wait to get home.

+++

It was early evening when they pulled up in Larry's truck to their white clapboard house on the beach. Fingers of pink and orange light still clung to the edges of clouds in an otherwise midnight blue sky. A lovely breeze caressed Cassie's skin through the window and she heard laughter and carnival music close by. She had never been so nervous, not even on her first go-sees. She could tell Larry was a bit nervous, too. He was quiet as they drove down, and clenched and unclenched his hands on the wheel. But it was a pleasant nervousness, of anticipation, not the butterflies of fear or anxiety. Cassie could see that Larry was hard as he drove. And she knew he saw her nipples swelling through her blouse. Her panties were completely soaked by the time they arrived, though they hadn't even touched.

They sat in the front of the car for a minute, like shy teenagers, until Larry turned to her, his arms beckoning, and Cassie immediately scooted over.

"Come here," he said, folding her in his arms. Their shyness of each other dropped away, as they immediately found their special loving place, and their nervousness turned into open, flowing lust. Larry sunk one hand into her soft curls, with the other he caressed her cheeks, forehead, and lips.

Cassie positively melted into his body, into the look in his eyes, giving, surrendering, her true self unguarded for the one gaze she loved more than any other in the world. She pushed her breasts into his chest and opened her lips, needing his touch, his warm flesh.

"You ready to be with Daddy tonight?" Larry whispered.

Cassie could only gush, and moan, and push her soft breasts harder against him.

"Did you bring something special to wear?"

Cassie nodded, her blue eyes big and wide as she felt his hand move to the inside of her thigh. 

"Good," he whispered, as his hand moved slowly upwards, making her gasp and twist beside him.

"Because I brought something for you, just for tonight. Just for us . . ." his voice trailed off because he had found her pussy, and pushed aside her soaked panties. Cassie was panting, loudly, and writhing, and spreading her thighs as he worked her lips, and fingered her hot, wet little hole.

"What is it?" she gasped. His fingers had found her swollen clit.

He handed her a little pink bag. She smiled. She knew what was inside. He'd bought her the most adorable pair of panties. Ivory lace, with tiny blue roses.

"Love thinking about you wearing Daddy's things on our date. I rubbed them all over my cock this morning, thinking about you."

"Mmmmm . . . I can't wait to put them on. Let's go inside."

They showered, and changed, and made plans to meet up again in the living room. Like a real date. 

Larry waited for her when he was ready, freshly shaved and wearing a nice button down shirt and jeans.

He heard her come in, and when he saw her, he had to break into a big smile. 

She wore a baby blue dress—cotton, simple, with tiny puffed sleeves, hanging straight down to mid-thigh. Her hair was loose and wavy and still damp from her shower, and she wore no make-up. She looked fresh, and young, and beautiful. Yet she wore no bra, and her long legs were clad in towering wedged heels. She was irresistible. Very "Daddy's Little Girl." 

"You ready?" he said. "Don't you look pretty."

She came up to him, his arm found her slim waist, and he pulled her close. She folded her arms on his shoulders, and pushed her big tits into his chest. She felt light and delicate in his arms, and he was so strong, and smelled so good. And his cock felt so nice throbbing against her slightly spread thighs.

"What are we going to do?"

"Well, I thought we'd go to the boardwalk. Maybe take you on a few rides. Buy you some cotton candy."

Cassie smiled her sweetest smile, and pressed her hard nipples into his chest. "I'm wearing your present."

"Are you, baby? Well Daddy will have to see," he whispered, "When we get back."

"I love you," she sighed, and Larry pulled her in for a soft, sweet kiss. "I love you, too, baby."

It was a beautiful night on the shore. Cassie always loved it here. There never seemed to be too many people. The beaches were pristine, the ocean clean. She envisioned many nights in the future coming here with Larry, maybe after a long week of work, she in the city and he on his job sites, looking forward to their time together away from everyone else. The breeze blew the thin cotton against her body, so she felt nearly naked as she walked along, holding his hand, their fingers interlaced like any ordinary loving couple. Perhaps it was being seen, having people glance at them as they walked by, knowing her pussy was throbbing for Daddy, in secret, but she had never been more aroused. 

They walked through the carnival, smiling at each other, holding hands and playing games. Larry held her hips at the ring toss and helped her cheat. She rubbed his ass at the shooting gallery, and kissed him when he handed her a stuffed animal prize. He bought her some cotton candy, and they didn't care that people saw him feeding it to her; they only laughed as she opened her lips and licked the spun sugar from his fingers. They kissed and touched each other on top of the Ferris Wheel, in the Fun House and the Tunnel of Love. The night carried them away, towards each other, the more openly they expressed themselves in public. 

Eventually they ended up in a secluded spot on the white sanded beach. They could still see the lights of the Merry Go Round and hear tinkling music in the distance. 

Larry threw down a blanket and Cassie reclined on her elbows. She kicked off her shoes and waited for him to join her, and as she watched him Freya's words suddenly popped into her head. "You, my girl, have been blessed. You've been blessed, and you've been lucky." Yes, she thought, she had . . . because she had him . . . and because she was in love. 

Larry got down beside her and she gazed at him, unable to breathe, as he leaned closer, over her, and tilted her face towards his mouth. It was their first proper kiss and his tender touch made her belly explode in warm, buttery feelings. She spread her thighs, unconsciously opening herself, her nipples and pussy on fire. 

Despite the things that they had done, this kiss was different, the most daring act yet, because it was planned and chosen. They knew what they were doing and what they wanted. When he pushed his tongue into her mouth, he was letting her know Daddy was going to make love to her, and her kiss back told him she wanted nothing more. She sucked and licked in return, opening her mouth, wider, pushing her hips towards his hands. Their mouths and tongues silently conveyed their lustful acceptance of their forbidden connection; each swirl and lick a dare and challenge not to stop, to keep going. 

"Oh!" Cassie gasped when he drew his mouth off her wet lips to whisper to her. 

"Do you want to come back to the beach house . . . and be a good girl for Daddy?" he said, kissing her neck.

Then he took her hand, and brought it to his cock.

Cassie groaned "Yes . . ." as she felt his hardened bulge through his jeans. She ran her curious hands over it, feeling the long thick shaft, the heavy weight of his balls, the ridge of his swollen head. She scooted down and lovingly rubbed her cheek against it while he stroked her hair. 

She moved back up to his face, kissing his neck and then finding his lips. 

"Take me back . . . please . . ."

+++

Within minutes of getting back to the beach house, Cassie was sitting on the bed, facing him, and unzipping his jeans. She had waited too long; she could not wait one second more.

Larry had dreamed and fantasized of this for months. He'd come so many times, so hard, unable to stop it, thinking about her. But the dream was nothing compared to seeing her hungrily gazing at him. Lust settled in his groin, heavy and thick, making him harder than he could ever remember. She had trouble undoing his buttons, and he had to help her, before just quickly stripping off his clothes. His tanned, virile body proudly displayed a beautiful thick cock, long and smooth, jutting up at a steep angle from a mass of dark hair. 

He wedged her legs apart, pushing his massive thighs forward, and let her just look, breathing heavily as he watched her pretty face.

She seemed shy, so he helped her. He took both of her hands and placed them on his cock, and then stroked her hair and face, encouraging her. 

Her trembling hands discovered him, slowly, with awe, touching the delicate skin and marveling at the hard muscle underneath. Her fingertips slid over the length of him, up to the silky head, and dipped into the tiny slit leaking clear cum. She touched it, and rubbed her lips over the mushroom-shaped tip, as she thought about his cum spurting deep inside her. She groaned with pleasure, and looked up at him, waiting for his direction.




Baby Doll



"You want Daddy to show you, Baby Girl?"

Cassie nodded. 

They both knew exactly how to turn each other on. She kept her blue eyes innocent and eager for instruction, using them to ask Daddy to show his Little Girl how to suck his big cock. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Larry played right along.

He held his prick and guided it to her mouth, with one hand on the back of her head. 

"That's good, baby, take Daddy into your mouth."

"Like this?" she whispered.

"Yes, baby, just like that. Slowly."

Cassie wrapped her soft lips around the tip and moaned, closing her eyes. She hesitated before gently sliding down over the head, drawing it out, letting him watch his cock slowly disappear into her mouth. She stopped after she'd only taken a few inches, and gazed up at him.

"Take more, Baby Girl," Larry whispered, still holding his dick and guiding her sweet mouth down onto it. "Take Daddy all inside you. That's good." He fed her his cock, inch by inch, until she couldn't take any more. And then she gave in to the pleasure of sucking him, sweetly and slowly, her smooth lips savoring every slide up and down his length, loving the feel and taste and the way he moaned. She sucked him lightly, not trying to get him off, but just wanting him to see how much she loved it. She sucked him for a long time, as he pushed back her hair and caressed her face and throbbed in her mouth. 

"You wanted this, didn't you, baby? You wanted Daddy's cock in your mouth."

"Mmmmm . . ."

He couldn't get enough of her warm soft mouth. His hips rocked gently forwards and back, working a slow rhythm as her moans of ecstasy filled the room. 

When he felt himself getting close, the slow pressure building and building to what he knew would be a huge release, he whispered, "Honey . . . slow down . . . you're going to make me come."

But that only made her groan and take him deeper into her mouth. 

"Oh, baby . . ." he hissed. "What are you doing?"

She moaned sweetly, and pulled off him. "I want to. I want to taste you. I want you to come in my mouth."

He caressed her face, her now sweaty, tangled hair. "Is that what you want, Baby Doll? Are you sure?"

"Mmm," she nodded, and opened her mouth to take him back inside. 

She closed her eyes, loving this heavenly sucking, Daddy's prick filling her mouth and her mind with pure ecstasy. She wiggled back on her hips to stimulate her clit; waves of pleasure flowed from her pussy with each slow, sensuous suck.

She became focused on making him come, hard, in her mouth. So she took her hands off his cock and slid them up the backs of his thighs, holding him still. She wanted him to see nothing but her mouth on him. 

"Mmm, baby . . ." Larry moaned. She looked so hot. Her pink lips stretched around his thick cock, loving it, loving him. "Yes," he whispered, watching her, "Suck my cock, that's a good girl. . ." 

His voice and his words seemed to lick her stiffened clit, nearly sending her off on her own orgasm. She felt the first tremors in his thighs, knew it was coming, and pulled his cockhead deep into her mouth.

"Cassie, baby, Daddy's gonna come for you, here it comes, here it comes . . ."

The pulsing of his cum up through his shaft made her clit explode in pleasure, and she came right along with him, shaking and trembling, without even touching herself. The knowledge of their incestuous pleasure alone was enough. She moaned as he pumped stream after stream of salty, creamy cum into her throat, savoring every last delicious drop, swallowing him down in waves that matched the waves of delight exploding from her clit. 

"Mmmmm . . ." 

Later, after she'd undressed, he reclined next to her on the bed, touching her face, leaning down every few seconds to kiss her on the lips. They tranced out in each other's gaze, glowing in post-orgasmic bliss. 

"What are you thinking, Baby Doll?"

"How happy I am."

"Are you, baby?"

"Yes," she said, looking at him seriously. "I haven't told you too much about what I've been doing, what it's like, modeling . . ."

"Why not? You know you can talk to me about anything."

"I don't want to. It's just . . . work." Actually, she didn't want to taint what she had with him by explaining it all. He'd just get mad, and she didn't want to waste her breath.

"Don't you like it, baby?"

Cassie shrugged. "Sometimes . . . but it's nothing like being with you."

"Did you like 'being with me,' Baby Doll?"

"Mmmmm . . . yes . . ." she said, sliding into his arms. She shifted, so her ass pushed into his thighs and hips, and her wet pussy rubbed against his cock. Larry continued to caress her face and plant little kisses on her lips, neck, cheeks . . . as she whispered, somewhat desperately, "Make love to me. Make love to your baby girl, please . . . Please fuck me . . . I love you so much."

Larry groaned at her seductive voice, and felt the blood rush into his cock, always so ready to get hard for her.

"Shh, come here," he whispered. "Come to Daddy."

He pulled her backwards, and she snuggled up tightly against his body as he wedged one of his thighs between her legs, getting her in a spooning position.

"There you go."

She raised her upper thigh, giving him full access. Larry grasped her jaw, and looked in her eyes and kissed her deeply, his tongue probing her mouth as his hand traveled down to find her. He stroked her and she widened for him, groaning with the desire that made opening her legs for Daddy so unbearably hot. She opened and opened like a carnal flower, the lips of her cunt expanding and unfolding under his soft touch, as he felt her, his fingers exploring her, opening, probing, touching, discovering. Cassie moaned and moaned, unable to stop her painful cries. He was feeling her pussy! The thought alone was nearly enough to make her come.

"Touch me, Daddy," she cried her voice getting more needy and hysterical. 

"Shh," Larry said, "Relax. Breathe."

His free hand found her jiggling breasts and she was now splayed open, her pale body curled back around him like a clinging vine, her mouth and tits and pussy opened wide and completely available for his hands and mouth. They were in perfect unison, her beauty, her gorgeousness, expanded only under his touch, all for him, because of him; and her beauty drove him wild, enflamed his cock, drew his desire, which made her become only more beautiful, and more fully herself, in his arms. 

He slid his erect cock between her thighs and rubbed it along the opening of her pussy as he kissed her neck, making her gasp in delirious moans. Her breasts swelled up, the nipples tender and aching and pleading for his mouth, every part of her on fire. He stroked against her, letting her feel his hardness slipping against her wetness, his arousal, his heavy balls nestled against the small of her back. 

The craving for his cock, Larry's wonderful, big cock, grew stronger and stronger. She had to feel him pushing up inside her! 

Larry shushed her as she squirmed and moaned and gyrated in his strong arms; held her still as he slid the head of his cock to her slick, needy hole. 

"Put Daddy inside you, baby . . ."

Cassie practically came at his words. Her hand trembled as she grasped his dick at the base and directed it right to her sopping pussy. He continued to kiss her, fondle her nipples, and whisper naughty things to her as he slowly pushed up inside her, inch by inch, full and hard, filling her completely, until she was impaled on his cock, from base to tip.

Cassie could not bear the pleasure! Her eyes glazed over and she licked her open lips with each slow push inside her. 

His lips found hers as he started to fuck her, slow and tender. His tongue swirled in her mouth, his fingers tweaked her hard nipples, as he drew all the way out and pushed into her gushing juices, which ran down and soaked his balls. He controlled himself, for her, guiding his cock to find her pleasure spots, and pushing and caressing right where she needed. He wanted to make his little girl come; he wanted to give her the best orgasm of her life. 

"That's it, Baby Girl, that's it. . . Come for Daddy . . ."

The swollen head of his cock hit the most delicious, naughty spot deep inside her belly. She was spread wide open for it, and soon could do nothing but pant as he fucked her with short, hard strokes, as he hit that perfect spot again and again.

As she began to come, as his thick cock hit that wonderful place and her pleasure spilled over, triggering off a slow, deep orgasm, all she could think was, "I'm his girl, his girl, I'm all his, I'm Daddy's Baby Girl."

And then she felt his cock spasm inside her, and his arms tremble as he clutched her tighter to him. His hands found hers and he squeezed them as he flooded her with his cum, and kissed her neck, and whispered that he loved her.

They drifted off to sleep, happy and content, to the sounds of carnival music, laughter, and the waves on the Jersey shore.

+++

A day later, Cassie was lying on her stomach, wrapped only in a sheet, nestling on his stomach. Larry sat up against the bed board, stroking her hair. They had barely left their bed the whole weekend, and were exhausted from another round of wonderful, satisfying sex.

She smiled at him and he at her. 

Suddenly her phone buzzed, and she groaned and rolled over to answer it.

"Hello."

"Cassandra."

"Oh, hello."

"I'm calling you."

"Yes?"

"I never call. The models always call me."

"Ok . . . but you are."

"Yes. I need you, Cassandra. Here. In Manhattan."

"Is everything ok?"

"Yes, but I need you to come in."

"Well I can't get there til tomorrow."

"I'll expect you." Click.

Ugh. Cassie curled up tighter on Larry's chest. They were going to leave tonight, anyway, but she couldn't bear the thought.

"Who was that, Baby Doll?"

"Mmmmmm . . ." she slid up, grasped his face with both hands, and kissed him hard on the mouth. 

"No one," she whispered.

+++

24 hours later, she was being ushered in to Freya's office.

"Cassandra. Have a seat."

Freya stared at her, with an odd, penetrating look, as if trying to figure her out. 

"Come here. I've been looking at your newest photos."

Cassie stood behind her, and she clicked on the mouse, scrolling through the digitized images.

They were just as dull as before, with a few notable exceptions. Cassie burst out laughing when she saw Patti Love's picture. Whaaaa? She looked miserable, like she had a case of poison ivy.

Freya said, drily, "Yes. Well, I thought I'd give her a shot. She has potential, but she triestoo hard."

She kept clicking. They arrived at Charlie Wolf's photo. It was quite beautiful, though Cassie's face was almost entirely hidden in shadow. 

Freya made an impatient sound. "What does he not understand? This isn't one of his shows. For the life of me, I can't figure out what he thinks he's doing in this business."

And then she clicked on the last photo. Chase and Molly's picture. It made Cassie gasp out loud.

She remembered the sunlight that day, but had no idea Chase could have captured it so well. She was illuminated from within the dark bedroom. The sun caressed her hair, her eyes, her lips, every pretty feature in a way she had never seen before. His touch was so subtle, almost invisible; he was content just to step back and let her shine. And shine she did, like a precious jewel, an opal of many colors. She saw blue, pink, glimmering tints of lilac, red and gold, all united by ivory skin. She wanted to reach out and touch it!

But she was marvelously sexed up. Her hair, a little tousled. Her nipples just barely visible. She was in the blue pin-striped shirt, wrapped around her, with her creamy white breasts pushed together. The image was cropped right above her pussy, not showing it, but making it that much more enticingly present through its absence. 

But her expression really made the image. It was knowing.As if she had a secret. As if she knew exactly what she was doing standing there looking so sexy, naked and freshly fucked, in a man's shirt. Above all, she did not look like a stupid model. It made all the difference. Without it, it could be just another great 70s porn shot. 

There she was. It was her. The way Larry saw her; the way she was as she loved him. 

There didn't seem much to say. They both knew this was the one. It couldn't be more obvious.

Freya was looking at her with that odd, confused stare, as if trying to figure it out. 

Cassie knew what she was thinking. For all her brilliance, all her cunning, this woman did not understand what modeling was really all about. She'd said so herself. It was the one thing she "couldn't help her with." 

"How did you do that?" Freya murmured. "This whole Lolita thing . . . I have not seen this in a very long time. Just skirts the edge . . . so close . . . but you know. You know.That's what makes it so good. There's not one in a million girls who could pull this off. How did you do it?"

Cassie only smiled. 

+++

Well, you know how this story ends.

She sent me back to work with Chase, and the rest is history. The magazine covers, the interviews, the glossy photo spreads. The story of how I was "discovered." 

The press dubbed me "Baby Doll," but then, you know that. You know all about me. You've seen me. I'm everywhere. I'm the one with the pouty pink lips and the liquid blue eyes looking at you from the cover of the swimsuit edition. You've looked, perhaps, wanting to be me. Or you've looked, magazine in one hand, jerking off with the other. That's ok. I'm happy to help you dream.

I just want you to know, next time you see me, that I'm happy.

It was standing there, in Freya's office that day, that I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. For real. I would take up photography. Maybe spend more time with Chase and Molly. I was going to be the one behind the camera, eventually. 

In case you are wondering, know that I am safe in Larry's loving arms. We're at the shore, on the Ferris Wheel, whenever we can get away. I travel a lot, but actually that works quite well. With my brothers and everything, we do have to be careful.

The separations are hard, but then, coming home is SO nice . . . 

But I guess I don't need to explain that to you, do I? 

All my love,

Xoxoxo,

Baby Doll 



Baby Dolls



The boredom of being out of town led me to Baby Dolls, an all nude strip club near the highway. I had been inside drinking for a while and was enjoying the girls dancing and showing off. I was entranced by this tall, athletic redhead Jamie and her ice blue eyes. She had a friend there named Lynnette who was a short, but cute, blonde with golden brown eyes. They would fool around most of the night, teasing each other. 

Jamie was hosting a number of men after her dance set, one that showcased Jamie's flexibility. Finally she was free and I requested a couch dance. For those who are not regulars at gentlemen's clubs, a couch dance is a lap dance in private on a couch for about 2 songs. 

Jamie started by teasing me with those sinfully, sexy eyes. She removed the loose shirt she had on and caressed her breasts. The whole time she had not taken her eyes off me and I was tending to get lost in them. She removed her "daisy dukes" and was gyrating in front of me and caressing herself all over. She straddled my lap and started grinding her hips on my lap. Of course I was growing a raging erection. She leaned forward and pushed upward so that her pert breasts were on either side of my face. 

Her skin was cool as she brushed her breasts against my face, but it was soft as silk. Her nipple grazed my lips, but I resisted the temptation to suck it in. Her nipples were pointing out and were as hard as stone. When I looked up at her face, she had a wicked grin on it and pinched her nipples hard. She moaned and licked her lips slowly and sensually, as if she had just eaten apple pie.

She slinked her way back down onto my lap and my engorged cock pressed against her naked pussy. She moaned loudly as she grinded herself against my shorts. She rocked her hips faster, using her legs to hook onto mine and pull herself hard against me. By the time the second song was finishing she had begun shivering from an orgasm and left a damp spot on my shorts.

She leaned towards my ear and whispered, "Find me later." "I want that cock inside me." She kissed me on the cheek and went back to dancing.

A few songs later her friend Lynnette came over and sat next to me. She started some small talk about what was I doing in town and such. After about 10 minutes, she asked if I would like her to dance for me. She was petite but very attractive and had this innocent, flirty air about her. I nodded and we went back to the same place Jamie had taken me. Lynnette sat me on the couch and started to dance. Her hips were swaying with the rhythm of the R&B song playing in the background. 

She had removed her stage dress and was dancing in a g-string. Showing me her supple breasts and her firm ass, my erection grew again. She leaned forward and put her hands on my shoulders and brushed her hair against my face. Her skin was warmer and more flushed than Jamie's. She leaned forward a little and moved towards my chest. She bit each of my nipples in turn. Surprisingly, I was turned on by this even though I am not an aficionado of S&M. She ran her hands down my chest and then down my inner thighs. She grabbed my knees and moved my legs apart. Before I knew what she was up to she rubbed her face against my cock. My cock was now straining to break free of its cloth confines and impale her eye. She then nibbled her way down my cock, looking up and smiling when she was done. She slithered her way up onto my lap and began to grind her swollen pussy against me. She rocked her hips in a rough motion and her face contorted in pleasure. I could only take this for a few minutes and then my cock erupted soaking my boxers and my shorts.

"Mmmm, I sure wish I could have swallowed that for you," she said.

I could only smile for a response because my head was so clouded by the orgasm I just had. She kissed my cheek and led me back out to a seat by the stage. She sat me there because a few minutes later Jamie and Lynnette were going to do a shower dance together. 

The shower dance was hotter than I think it was supposed to be on any given night. I am sure the girls were just having a good time but you could tell they just wanted to make one another cum. After a few minutes of lather and suds they rinsed off to the ovation of the crowd.

The last few hours that the club was open seemed to rush by. I had a few more couch dances with some different girls, all of which were sweet but not as good as with either Jamie or Lynnette. The club closed about two in the morning and I made my way out to the car I was renting. 

From behind me a voice shouted, "Hey, hey you!" I turned and it was both Jamie and Lynnette walking, or should I say slinking, up behind me.