How to Train Your Daughter Ch. 13a

Both of the twins were shaping up into incredible examples of the female sex, and I had no doubt they would be very competitive in multiple categories in their Festival; it seemed overconfident to imagine they would take first place like Jennifer, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did, and they would certainly make a splash and place well regardless.

The tub had filled, and I'd added some bubbles, and Selena took my hand and climbed into the warm, deep water, lowering herself luxuriously into the soft mountains of white foam, lying back, and sighing deeply as I took her hair down and began to wash it, working the shampoo into her heavy gold tresses and massaging her scalp while we chatted about life and whatever else she wanted to talk about.

Her breasts rose deliciously from the water as she leaned further back so I could rinse her hair, her nipples crinkling immediately as they left the liquid heat of the bath water and emerged into the cooler air of the bathroom; they didn't suffer long, however, as I finished and she dipped them back under the suds where they were kept happily warm and wet.

'Alright, sweetheart, stand up so I can do your front.'

She rose from the water, which was above her knees, the suds coursing magnificently from her body as if in slow motion, cascading in breathtaking, milky profusion down the precipitous slopes of her alpine breasts and spilling off in two torrential, foaming cataracts from their full underbellies; small floes of soap bubbles ran aground against her dark nipples and clung for life to her bath-crinkled nubs for a few seconds before losing their grasp and slipping, beyond the point of return, down the sleek, expansive curve of her bosoms and racing down her smooth tummy and into the beckoning warmth of her broad, smooth pussy mound,

I gathered her hair into a thick, wet twist, and retrieved a large, soft sponge from the side of the tub, soaking it and squeezing it over her chest.

Taking her left breast in my hand, I steadied it with a firm grip on its full, heavy underside, and used my other hand to carefully scrub it thoroughly with the sponge, not neglecting her areola and nipple.

Then I dropped the sponge in the bath and used my hand to ensure the soap had been worked well into her silky skin, rubbing and twisting her nipple to make sure it was clean, and massaging her breast with slow, strong squeezes from both my hands, before repeating the process with her right breast as Selena purred happily while telling me the latest gossip about one of the girls on the soccer team.

'Selena, your breasts are becoming really extraordinarily lovely,' I said in genuine admiration, 'The men who train you after your Festival are going to love them so much...'

She giggled abashedly and thanked me politely; she'd always been the shyer of the twins, and compliments on her body still made her blush.

Lifting her arms above her head, I soaped her underarms, kneading the soap into the exquisite hollows with my knuckles and savoring her short-cropped golden fuzz that caught the bubbles and covered itself in a fine, soft lather under my fingers.

I scrubbed down her belly and sides, the sponge caressing her powerful curves as I delighted in caring for her beautiful body. I tapped the edge of the tub with my hand.

'Up here, sweety.'

Despite their periodic behavioral issues, normal for girls in their teen years, the twins were actually well-trained for girls their age, and already responded immediately and reflexively to many basic commands, particularly concerning the positioning of their body; and Selena instantly complied, raising her leg and setting her foot on the tub so I could bathe her vagina.

I pressed her knee to the side so I had more room to work, and her fat outer lips split apart like the ripest and sweetest of fruit, revealing a dark pink interior that glistened in the vanity lights; we used a special moisturizing soap for the girls' vaginas, and I squeezed a healthy amount of the sweet-smelling cream into my hand and began working it into my daughter's genitals.

I worked carefully, gently massaging the soap into her petite inner lips before locating her clitoris and doing the same with it; Selena's face fell into a dreamy smile as I made sure her pussy was nice and clean.

'Daddy,' she said, suddenly pensive, 'Can I ask you something?'

'Of course, sweety.' I nodded. Her inner bits done, I began scrubbing her outer lips with the fingers of both my hands, kneading the sweetly-scented soap into a dense, fine lather in her blond landing strip, and reaching through her legs and cleaning all along her inner thighs, and back past her untouched opening to her perineum and the undersides and inner sides of her butt cheeks.

She bit her lush lower lip, partly in her troubled puzzlement over the question she wanted to ask, and partly in dreamy, distracted pleasure as my hands rubbed and kneaded and massaged the delicate, nerve-rich flesh of her pelvic area.

'Why do men have to...have to...always be so interested in looking at my...at my vagina?'

I looked at her and smiled.

'Honey, I know your classes at school have explained that. It's how humans reproduce—your vagina is where a man needs to put his sperm, and doing that feels really, really good to the man, so most guys are always interested in a girl's cunny. Turn around and put your hands on the wall, sweetheart, so I can wash your backside.'

She obeyed, the water splashing as she maneuvered in the big tub, spreading her stance wide and placing both her hands high on the back wall of the shower, and stretching her beautiful body out to give me access to every inch of it.

Her buttocks swayed and rolled with the fullness of their own weight as she moved, the strong arch she gave her back in order to ensure I could get to all of her bits offering me a delightful accidental little twerk of her behind that playfully caught my adoring gaze with its coy glimpses of her fat cunny.

'I know that, daddy,' she groaned, suddenly growing plaintive with innocent, shocked sensibility, 'but, like, why?! Why does it have to be my vagina? It's my special, personal place—and why does it have to be their...penis?! It's just...so gross!'

I pressed the heavy sponge against her shoulders at the nape of her neck, watching mesmerized as the thick sheets of suds coursed down her muscular back, eddied in the small of her back at the cleavage of her stocky haunches, and cascaded down into the sumptuous valley between her buttocks, before I followed their serpentine path with the sponge and with my hand.

She had been raised, like all good girls, to consider her female bits to be special, private parts of her body that she should only allow a few, particular people to look at and touch; now, as her Festival drew closer, she was beginning to grapple with the daunting, strange future that awaited her after her virginity was taken while the town watched, and she was released to the eligible men of the community as one of the new sexually available girls for them to enjoy and teach, responsible for allowing them to use her body for any pleasant copulatory diversions they might devise.

Her private parts would become very public parts, and Selena, in her inexperience, was greatly appalled by the admittedly somewhat brutal and at times viscerally indelicate mechanics of her body's natural use, and it was understandable that the idea of her beautiful, delicate vagina being casually inspected and pawed and penetrated and creamed by every man who wanted to try her out might make her ambivalent, at best, and fill her with an honest horror at worst.

'Sweetheart, your vagina is special and very precious, and it always will be—that will never change. But it was made to be enjoyed—you were made to be enjoyed, every bit of you. And part of growing up is embracing the fact that your body is a beautiful blessing in the world, and your most important, natural purpose is to allow that beautiful blessing to be shared and enjoyed, and to learn, from as many men as are willing to take the time to train you, how to give pleasure—you know very well that that is your duty as a girl, honey.

'I promise that your body will do well in your lessons, and you'll learn wonderful things that you were created to do, and the tremendous delight that you were designed to bring to the men who will choose to handle you after your Festival—even though it will mean letting them look at, and touch, and taste your vagina; and yes, sometimes they may even want to put their penises in it for a little while.'

Selena gave a slow, resigned nod against the shower wall, and groaned as if she'd just been told that summer vacation wouldn't mean a break from her household chores.

'Do they have to...to put their whole...thing...in me, daddy?'

I flailingly considered my response, and settled on a factually accurate answer that elided both truth and reality in my attempts to defuse a conversation I wasn't sure how to end on a positive note for my daughter.

'Well, no, Selena, they don't have to put their whole penis inside you—they can sometimes just put the tip in your opening, and train you like that. But if a man wants you to take all of him in your vagina, you need to say yes, sir, and let him, okay?'

She nodded again, a little more brightly this time, relieved somewhat to learn that it was at least possible for a man to train her without fully penetrating her, regardless of how relatively unlikely that would actually be, and said she understood, and that she would try to be obedient in her lessons, even if a man wanted to put all of his penis in her.

I wished there was something more I could say or do to assuage her growing anxiousness; it wasn't uncommon for girls to have some difficulty processing the raw realities of what their training would comprise after they'd celebrated their Festival, and I could understand her reluctance at the idea of being required to allow her young body to be enjoyed and used and handled by any eligible man who took an interest in her.

As I soaped her juicy buttocks and the backs of her thighs, she told me how one of her teachers had recently selected her to play the role of a debutante in a mock Festival with her social studies class, and had made her undress so that he and three of the boys in her class, playing the parts of Festival judges, could inspect and grade her body for the educational benefit of the other students.

The tension of her stance as she told her story caused her haunches to spread, and the view of her body from behind was breathtaking; between her two full buttocks, her exquisite pudenda nestled like a smooth, perfectly ripe fruit bisected neatly by a pristine slit that remained closed all the way back to the very last opportunity, where it hinted at an impossibly tight little opening that had yet to be breached by any cock.

Lifting one of her butt cheeks, I gently scrubbed her vulva and anus, working the soapy water into her most personal areas and checking carefully to make sure that besides her carefully-trimmed patch of fur, every centimeter of her pubic area was smooth and free from stray blonde stubble.

She had done a good job, as she usually did when it came to her grooming, and I finished her nethers with a few slow, thorough rubs of my thumb to her clitoris to reward her, spreading her lips with my other hand and watching closely and with paternal satisfaction as her sweet, hymen-protected opening pulsed and winked in a healthy, normal response to my gentle, experienced stimulation of her little pink button.

Selena's eyes closed and she dropped her head and hung it between her arms, her entire body softening and a tiny, melodic hum drifting from the back of her throat that rose and fell in time with my thumb's slow little circles around the delicate pink hood of her clitoris.

She trained very hard for lacrosse, and while I was happy to see her body's tight, sore muscles relax and release a little in a natural, involuntary response to direct clitoral stimulation, bath nights were not for orgasms—something I'd been amused to find I needed to clarify for my daughters surprisingly early on.

When told, however, that they could either have bath night without cumming, or no bath night at all, the girls unanimously, if begrudgingly, voted for the net gain.

I was carefully observing Selena now as I used my thumb to tell her, with a little pleasure, that she was a good girl for taking such good care of her bikini area on her own; and after only perhaps eight or ten patient little orbits of my thumb's tip around her tiny blushing Venus, I heard a slight, almost indistinguishable change in the pitch of her kittenish hum.

I coolly released my grasp on her genitals and brought both my hands to her soapy buttocks, took two healthy handfuls, and calmly, firmly gripped their magnificent curves to help ground and rein-in Selena as she shivered and whimpered and dutifully tried to regain her composure.

'Selena, control yourself. Breathe.'

I pressed my fingers into her soft flesh, marveling at the powerful spring of my daughter's glute muscles deep beneath the surface of her creamy skin as I felt them flex and shudder in the epic battle being waged between her wanton, inarticulate hunger, and her equally strong desire to be a good girl and save her orgasms for the right time, and quietly reminded her to breathe.

'Yes...daddy...oh...I want to cum...' she whispered into the shower wall.

Her ragged breathing slowed and deepened as I was pleased to see her practice the breath-work exercises she'd been taught to help walk herself back from the brink of impermissible climax.

She was beautifully spread under my grip, and every inch of her gorgeous body shone wet. As she took a final, slow, extra-deep breath and exhaled shudderingly, successfully containing her wayward impulses, I watched a heavy, pure droplet of her clear, slick girl nectar spill from her vagina and roll down her pristine slit.

It gathered momentum as it slipped steeply through some stray soap suds constellating in the region of her clitoris, and plunged headlong, a gleaming pendulum suspended by a diamond thread, into the empty firmament between Selena's thickly sculpted thighs.

I watched, enchanted, as the silken strand on which the bead of her syrupy juices hung gathered tiny soap bubbles from her vagina as it stretched, and they studded its length like minuscule pearls on a string.

As the heavy drop disappeared into the snowy peaks of bath bubbles beneath Selena's peach slit, the strand reached its limits and snapped, bursting into a thousand tiny shining bits of soap bubble and girl-cum, some of which caught the air currents in the steam and floated about the bathroom like tiny stars.

'Good girl,' I murmured approvingly.

Having gotten hold of herself, she threw her head back and groaned the eternal groan of the disappointed daughter who didn't get what she wanted because her father knows best, and I shook my head with a little smile to clear my own reverie.

Maintaining my firm grip on her soft flesh, I slowly drew my hands down the magnificent curves of her buttocks, then down the back of her thighs, squeezing them tightly, and over the hollows behind her knees, and down her sprung calves, glorying in her thick musculature and the extravagant curves of her hindquarters.

I tapped her lightly just below her left knee, and as she'd been trained, she responded by obediently shifting her weight unsteadily to her right leg and reaching her left foot back towards me, offering me her sole so I could wash her foot.

Like the rest of her body, her adorable feet were compactly proportioned—I had always affectionately called them her cave-bear paws—and I savored the intimate feeling of her round, impeccably manicured, water-wrinkled toes slipping delightfully through my fingers as I worked the soapy water between them.

She let out a low moan of pleasure as I took a minute to massage her pink sole, willingly yielding her tight athletic arches to my strong hands, then did the same to her muscular calf; when I'd finished, I tapped her other leg and repeated the process on her right foot, and she continued her woeful school tale.

'...and daddy, the boys were so excited to look at my vagina,' she lamented, mortified, 'and they touched me, and even...tasted me...and so did Mr. Desilva, and they talked about how good they thought my cunny looked, and what kinds of awful things they wanted to do to me...'

Her voice trembled and nearly broke as she related her story; my heart went out to her, but it was a commonly accepted practice to use schoolgirls for educational and demonstration purposes of many kinds, and somehow she would need to come to terms with the fact that her beautiful body was going to be in greater and greater demand as she matured, as was only right and proper.

I stood her up and turned her around again to face me, taking the brass shower nozzle down from its hook and turning the faucet handle to release the powerful, warm stream so I could rinse her body off.

'...I like it when you touch me there, like this in the shower, daddy, but...but I just don't know how I'm going to—I just don't want a bunch of other men to look at me and—and put their big ugly penises in me all the time, daddy. It looks like it hurts—there's no way a man's penis will fit in me and not...'

I tilted her chin up and carefully sprayed down her breasts, pinching her nipples to ensure they responded properly by growing erect and crinkled as the stream pelted their dark nubs; then raised her arms and rinsed the soap from her golden fuzz in the precious hollows beneath them.

I instructed her to lift her leg again and return her foot to the edge of the tub, and to reach up and steady herself with her hands on the shower curtain rod, since the intense sensations often meant the twins had difficulty holding still and staying on their feet when I rinsed their vaginas.

I rotated the shower head to the 'pulsate' setting, spread her juicy mons wide with one hand, and aimed the warm stream into her slit; I'd found that the rapidly repeating rhythm of the softly pounding torrent was especially effective for rinsing every bit of soap from all the nooks and crannies of the girls' cunnies, and I used the gentle jet to carefully, thoroughly irrigate between her sets of vaginal lips, and under and around the edges of her dainty clitoral hood.

I leaned in close to her swollen, tender genitals and spent a few moments doing the best job I could ensuring I'd fully rinsed her copious girl-cum from her entrance, checking my work with a few businesslike strokes of my fingertip across her delicate hymen to confirm that her private area was soft and velvety, and free from the slick drip of her vaginal secretions. Clean vaginas were a very important thing in our home.

Selena closed her eyes and hung slackly from the the shower rod, a long, low hum of pleasure escaping her lips as I worked; despite her best efforts to be a good girl and hold perfectly still as I worked my fingers around her sensitive female parts, gently flipping her labia this way and that under the shower stream and pulling up on the hood of her clitoris up to spray underneath it and make sure it was free of suds, she still trembled and shook as her body responded naturally to even the simple fatherly, non-sexual stimulation I was giving to her secret bits as part of her bath.

She stepped shakily out of the tub when I was finished, and I wrapped her in a giant, fluffy towel and kissed her, trying my best to reassure her innocent sensibilities as I dried her briskly off.

'I know it's strange and weird sometimes when you imagine it now, honey,' I said, her big blue eyes pleading with me in vain to tell her she would never have to let men breed her as I bundled her impressive breasts into the towel and fluffed and bounced their generous heft in the warm, heavy cloth, pinching and rolling her thick nipples through the plush terry to dry them, 'But I need you to trust me, Selena—you know your body was made for men to have sex with, and the training you receive after your Festival will always be designed perfectly for what your trainers think is most valuable for you to learn.'