I flung the whip back and cracked it against his back. He must have never felt anything like it, because he let out a scream like no other. This and...the cut that appeared on his back were pleasing to me, and it fueled me to keep going. My rage was so blind that I can't remember how many lashes I gave him. All I know is, when I was done with whipping him, his back resembled a first-grader's scribbling with a red marker. Then a flashback from just moments ago came to me again. I remembered. "'This is getting worse and worse,' I think to myself. 'What more couldgo wrong?'"I keep trying to tell Morgen," Mr. Feyla continues, "how much morepopular she would be, you know, if only she took a moment to work on herappearance." I'm no longer your little girl, Daddy. You'll just have to get used tothe fact that I dress myself now." I suppose," Mr. Feyla sighs. "I can't remember the last time I saw youin a dress. I think it was..."He thought for a second."Hey, I just had a wonderful idea!. Wo ekdum nayi dulhan ki tarah saji hui thi ar mai usse dekh raha thaa ki tabhi ussne kaha ki are maine tumhare liye badam ka dudh rakha tha wo to tumne peeya hi nhi. To mai hasa ar usse kaha ki jaanu dudh sharir mein garmi laane k liye hota h ar tumhe dkh k toh mere sharir me waise hi garmi aa gai h uski zarurat nhi h jaaneman. Ye kehte hi maine uska pallu hata diya ar uske boobs ko dekha usne laal satin ka blouse pehna tha ar wo thoda nahi kaafi deep tha. Aur usme se uski breast aadhi dikh. He loved how, if he was wearing stockings, that when he bent over, hems would rise to reveal the stocking tops.He enjoyed watching his sister leave the house on a night out, watching as how some of her dresses clung to the contours of her shapely body, how that the material of some of her dresses were so sheer that they revealed an absence of underwear.The knowledge that she had worn those dresses, seen what they looked like on a female body, knew that male hands had explored the dresses.