Strip for daddy.

One button after another, I slowly open my blouse, my motions becoming more animated as I continue to dance, I came all this way, I can't back out now.

I take a deep breath to steel my determination.

Turning back towards him, I hold the front of my unbuttoned blouse closed. Slowly, very slowly, I start to pull the blouse open, revealing a sliver of skin reaching from the hollow of my throat all the way down past my navel. As I sway, I allow the blouse to continue opening until the cups of my bra start to become visible.

"You've got the bashful thing down nicely, I'll give you that," He says, his eyes feasting upon my body in a way that makes me uncomfortable, but at the same time, I feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, my vagina aching with an unfamiliar sensation, "But we do fifteen minute sets around here, and I expect you to be naked at the end of every set, pick up the pace," He gestures at you impatiently.

I'm shocked enough by his words that I let go of my blouse, my hips still swaying as if on autopilot. My hands start to fall to my sides, my shirt starting to sway from side to side, giving tantalizing glimpses of one bra cup, then the other as it moves from side to side.

He'll talk to me once I've done this, I reassure myself. We'll have a good laugh about this little misunderstanding, and I can explain to him that I only did this because I was scared he would throw me out, and he never gave me a chance to explain.

When my hands reach my hips, I let them slide to the back to slide down the zipper in the back. The whole time, I watch my father's expression. He looks slightly amused, his eyes taking in my body as if committing every curve to memory.

Embarrassed by his gaze, I turn my back towards him again, my skirt slipping down my hips as I do so to pool around my ankles.