Chapter Text
HER MOTHER TAUGHT HER EVERYTHING
She smiled at the door as her small hands fidgeted with the special dress her mommy had given her. She was nervous, but not worried, as her mom had always taken care of her. Had always loved her and made her feel special. And her mommy had said this was the most special way to feel special that any little girl could know.
Her mom was the most perfect adult in the world. The only one she truly loved. The only one she trusted. Adults were big and loud, always stumbling around, bumping into things. They scared her. She was a delicate flower, her mommy always said so, and she didn’t want to get trampled on by one of them.
She knew her mom meant it when she called her a flower because she was always talking about how close she was to “blossoming.” Her mom always said flowers should always look pretty and smile, so the little girl always wore the prettiest dresses she had, never got dirty, and always had a big grin on her face. It was what her mother wanted, and thus, it was what she wanted.
Her mom had taught her that dresses weren’t the only way that little girls could be pretty. Makeup could help little girls be pretty by making them look older or younger. The way they walked. The way they talked. Her mother was especially happy when the little girl talked and acted a bit younger than she actually was. Her mommy called her the most beautiful flower then, all ready to be “pollinated,” whatever that meant.
And when they were alone, her mom taught her other things. How people who truly loved you kissed. Not with a peck on the cheek. No, when her mommy kissed her, it felt special and weird and warm and funny. The way her tongue entered the small girl’s mouth. Exploring and wrestling with the child’s tongue. It always gave her butterflies in her tummy and made her giggle. The heat of her mother’s hands on her legs as they slowly slid up her dress and cupped her butt. The confusing heat she felt as her mommy’s fingers slid forward and caressed her most special place. The place, according to her mom, that would get her a prince one day, once she was old enough.
And that was why she was there today, sitting on her bed. Her mom had given her roses from her prince. Had sent her to her room to get changed. The new dress was funny and difficult to put on. It was so thin the little child thought it would rip in her hands, but she finally figured it out and got dressed as her mother wanted her to. She felt silly in the white dress. It covered almost nothing at all, and especially, it didn’t cover the places that dresses always covered. It was the opposite, leaving her smooth, flat chest and crotch exposed to the cool air as she smiled, kicked her legs, held the roses from her prince, and waited.
And then, there came a knock on the door. The little girl smiled, the door opened, and the first of ten “princes” came into her room, ready to make her a “woman.”