Who did I have now? Who will love me the way my mother had? Sam could never compare. Would he love me more or less now that he didn’t have my father...to praise every little thing he did? Sam was eighteen and was about to go away to college. Would he still go? After that night, my life changed. I did, too. I wasn’t me anymore. I was somebody else. I was angry all the time, angry with everyone. All my friends were nearly afraid to talk to me. My teachers were afraid of what I’d do to them. I. There was no rhyme or reason to it. Once or twice a week, sometimes more, sometimes less, I'd wake up with the front of my boxers soaking wet. The immense feeling of well being that accompanied these episodes didn't help the feeling of fear that somebody might notice I'd maybe wet the bed, or even had the embarrassing wet dream.I tried to figure out what was really happening, so one time I napped during the day, to see if it happened just any time I slept, or if it was only at night, or. She went to HER room and closed the door, but kept up the crying for about an hour. She never left the bed room the rest of the night.I woke early again, but Joy beat me this time. She was in the kitchen wearing what had been my favorite sheer baby doll. Breakfast was on the table with a hot cup of coffee. I poured the coffee in my travel mug and left the house leaving her breakfast untouched. I didn’t want to be tempted and giving in to her desires. I almost asked her if what she was. " My voice sounded extraneous to me like somebody else was saying it. It was more of a purr. I think it was the first time I sounded naturally sexy, without any effort.He looked at me, and I saw his jaw clenching. Daddy inhaled deeply, "My love, go to your room, please." I love you. I want to be with you, and there's no reason not to. You want to hurt me, hurt me. If you want to fuck me…." I parted my shaking legs a bit, and I could see his eyes trailing from my pert breasts to my flat stomach,.