First Present

I was awakened by a hot, wet, breathy kiss on my cheek. I blinked my eyes open, and they landed on Papa. I blinked a few more times, first to clear my vision and then to ensure I was truly awake.

It was strange, as Papa had never set foot in my room or touched me before. But I liked it, as his distance often left me wondering if he loved me. I barely saw him—usually just twice a year—and now he looked different; finer and a bit darker. Water droplets from his damp hair fell on my face, making me feel more alert.

"Happy birthday, Karine," Papa said in a gravelly voice, and that was when my senses returned from their fantasy world.

Thirteen and sheen, that's me! Finally! I'd waited a year and three months for this day. I didn't quite recall why I'd anticipated this day so eagerly, but then I remembered:

"Please Diego, leave her out of this. She's too young."

"I'll give her some more time, say when she's thirteen."

Oh, that's right! I've always anticipated knowing what's up with mama and papa's tightness each time I eavesdrop on their conversation. Did Papa want to start showing me he loved me now? Did he want to start caring now that I was thirteen? That would be the best birthday present ever, but Papa's affectionate gestures this morning didn't quite align with Mama's fearful words months ago.

"Thank you, Papa," I smiled, my heart racing with joy and pride, as I wiped the water droplet from my face.

"Here!" Papa said, revealing a fancy bag and placing it on the nightstand. "Your first present."

I gasped in excitement, jumping up into a sitting position, which made Papa frown.

"Sorry," I muttered, lowering my gaze and adjusting my position slowly. Mama had said Papa liked girls to behave in a ladylike manner: calm, cool, and obedient at all times.

But does he like mean first present from him? Cause that's true. Or does he like mean first present for my birthday? Cause that can also be possible.

I was about to reach for the bag, but Papa flicked my hand hard, making me wince slightly.

"Not yet," he said, "we're going to take a shower first, and then you can check out your present." 

How cute. "Okay," I smiled, getting off the bed and making sure to move gently.

Papa stood up alongside me, and I expected him to leave, but he didn't. I placed my fingers on the hem of my pink bunny gown, gesturing that I was going to take it off, but he stood still, his huge frame towering over me and his dark brown eyes fixed intently on me.

"Go on. Or do you need me to help you with that?" Papa asked, taking me by surprise.

I shook my head, unable to find the courage to respond. I didn't really know what kind of person Papa was, but Mama had said he was strict.

Slowly, I lifted my gown over my head, leaving me in just my panties. I shifted uncomfortably on my feet as Papa's eyes remained fixed on my bare chest. Was he checking how well I'd grown?

"Let's go," Papa said, walking towards my bathroom.

"What!" The word escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Papa stopped and turned to me. "Get into the bathroom so I can bathe you." The words rang in my head.

Papa? Bathe me?

"I can bath myself. I'm twelve, not two." I wobbled.

"Hummm..... Seems Ophelia has planted her defensive nature in you, but need I warn you that I'm not the right person to try it with. Get into the bathroom, now!"

"Papa, I bath my...."

"Into the bathroom, now." Papa said, his face expressionless, but I didn't move an inch. I wasn't gonna let him bath me, was I? Of course not. "The bathroom, now.

"I can't...."

"Bathroom, now." He said still in a low voice, but his expression could send one to hell.

"Now!" He yelled making me jerk in fear and I dashed into the bathroom.

Papa followed me from behind and shut the door close once he was inside. He turned on the tap and let the warm water rush into the bathtub. He squatted beside the tub, checking the temperature of the water at intervals and making sure it was okay. I couldn't help but let out a nervous smile at how he acted so caring and concerned, even though he was behaving weird.

"You don't need me to tell you to take that off too, do you?" Papa asked, staring at me with raised brows and I jolted back to reality.

I dipped my fingers into the sides of my panties and pushed it down, sliding my legs out of it one after the other. I don't really know if this is right. It doesn't feel so. Mama used to be the one to bath me and she stopped doing that eight years ago. Where is mama? I unconsciously turned my gaze to the door hoping she'd walk in, but papa's voice startled me as usual:

"Get in." Papa said, and concluding that this was just him trying to make up for past times and act like a caring father I decided to relax and enjoy the moment.

I got into the bathtub gently, and slowly sat down. Closing my eyes, I succumb to the cleansing, warming water.

Papa moved his nose into my hair from behind and inhaled deeply. "You smell so good, Karine."

I let out a faint smile, "Thank you papa." A tremor ran through my whole body. I am naked in a bath with papa. What if mama comes in and gets angry? There's nothing to be afraid of, he's my father afterall.

Papa reached for a bottle of body wash from the built-in shelf beside the bathtub and squirts some into his hand. He rubbed his hands together, creating a soft, foaming lather, and he closed his hands around my neck and starts to rub the soap into my neck and shoulders, massaging firmly with his long, strong fingers. A groan escaped my lips.

 "You like that?" I could almost hear his smile. I wished I could see it, I had never seen him smile before.

 "Hmm."

Papa moved down my arms, then beneath them to my underarms, washing gently. He stopped and reached for a washcloth. Squirting more soap onto the washcloth, I felt his hands on me again, soaping my body: my shoulders, my arms, under my arms, my chest, my back, my stomach, and between my legs.

I felt more relieved when he was done and dried me up. Why he was treating me like a child, was what I could understand. I'm a teen for goodness sake.

.....

"You can open your present now." Papa said standing close to the door, wiping his hands with a hand towel.

"I should put something on first." I countered, pulling my wardrobe door open.

"Your present." Papa said firmly. I didn't like his tone. I didn't like it when he raised his voice at me.

I quickly shut the wardrobe and walked back to the night stand. Picking up the bag, I held it open and smiled at the present - clothes. That's why he didn't want me to put on something first, he wants me to wear what he got for me. So thoughtful. He wasn't so bad after all. As I dug into the bag, a flurry of excitement washed over me. First, I pulled out a crisp white button-down shirt with a sleek black design emblazoned on the chest. Next, I revealed a trendy ash-gray short with double pleated slits and a tiny purple dragon embroidered on the side. But then, my eyes widened in surprise as I uncovered the final items: lacy panties and a delicate bra. My heart skipped a beat.

"Papa I don't even wear this." I said lifting up the brazier.

"And why is that?" Papa asked, taking slow strides towards me. His look though..

"Mama said I'm not matured enough to wear it yet. She got me sport bras."

"Let me take a look." Papa said and taking his hand to my chest, he cupped my breast.

I felt adrenaline rush through me. Is it okay for papa to do this as well? Is he supposed to touch me this way? Mama had warned me about letting guys touch me, but she never told me about papa. Does it mean it's okay for him to touch me this way?

Papa took his hand off me and shrugged, "Well, you're matured enough when I say you're matured enough, and I'm saying you're matured enough." He picked up the panties and doing a crouch, he opened it wide in front of my legsHe

Wow.... This is so bizarre.

I placed each of my legs into the panties one at a time, placing my hands on his broad shoulders for support.