I don’t know why I started sleeping naked right after my eighteenth birthday. I’d always been comfortable in a small T-shirt and panties before, but suddenly, the feel of even the softest fabric against my skin became unbearable. Especially at night time.
Worse, though, I woke up the morning after my big birthday and it was like a flip had been switched inside me. One night, I was a normal girl with normal, occasional sexual urges that were easily controllable, then the next day, I was...
I was a horny slut.
My daddy was a depraved man.
To the small town we lived in, he was an over-protective father obsessed with my safety and innocence. If, occasionally, his overbearing and dominance over keeping me away from boys and outside influences bordered on inappropriate, the fact that he was the biggest, meanest son of a bitch in town kept anyone from commenting.
I knew the truth now, though. He didn’t dominate my every thought and movement out of concern for my well being. He wasn’t worried about some young boy groping me or convincing me to sleep with him damaging my self-esteem. Things like teenage pregnancy and date rape never even crossed his radar. Because what my daddy was protecting me for was his own sick, perverted pleasure.
Daddy's always had a thing for young girls. And when I turn 18, there's nothing stopping him from turning his dirty attention to me. Daddy doesn't care if I'm scared or a virgin, he won't stop until I'm begging him to corrupt me!