Perhaps that was part of her mystique? I was just making a developmental transition, at that age, from regarding my Barbie as a personal totemic being...with extraordinary powers to understanding her as a toy that my dad got at some big store. Now that I understood that Barbie was a product I thought I should talk to my mom about some special concerns I had.“Mom, can you get me a short Barbie? You know, like me." I did my version of a ballerina turn.“Honey, we need to talk. Sit down, Syl, stop. When she had settled again, she gave a shuddering sob.“Am I a good girl again?” she asked quietly.“Yes,” he said gently. “You are a very good girl.”And he pushed two fingers between her legs, massaging her hard little button between her molten lips.“Please…” she whispered.Gently but firmly, he slowly lifted her up. She could hardly stand, and he carefully shuffled her across the deep plush to the large oak table. Lovingly, he stood in front of her, pulled her panties down to the ground, lifted. More

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