Christina sat in front of her vanity mirror and checked her makeup. Everything looked fine, really. She'd gotten her foundation and powder on perfectly, and her eyeliner. She just needed to put on a little more blush (without putting on too much) and some lipstick.

She was only eleven years old but she already knew she was beautiful. With her long blonde hair and her large blue-grey eyes, her tiny nose and full lips, her classic high cheekbones, her slender shapely body, she could see for herself that she fit the standard American idea of what a beautiful girl should look like. But it wasn't just her opinion; everyone else seemed to think so too. The boys in school who stared at her as she walked by, or said rude and nasty things to her in the hallways, the other girls who either openly admired her or scowled at her and talked behind her back, even the men driving in their cars, craning their necks to look at her when she was walking home from school, or who studied her out of the corners of their eyes while she rode the bus to the mall, they too offered her validation that she was uncommonly attractive. There were a few male teachers as well who tried unsuccessfully to hide their attraction to her. Even her older brother Billy, who was fifteen now, would let his eyes wander over the sweetly developing contours of her body or just sit and stare at her while they were studying at the kitchen table (once, she overheard Billy tell his friend Eddie Burns, "My little sister's the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen," which had flattered and embarrassed her at the same time). But the strongest evidence of her beauty came from her daddy. He stared too sometimes, and got that distracted romantic look in his eyes, especially when she was all dolled up or acting silly. Christina loved that look in her daddy's eyes. But on top of all that, there was the special studio he'd set up just for her.

Okay, the blush was done and it looked good. She checked the time: ten more minutes. She brushed her hair again even though she didn't need to, then picked out the right lipstick. She leaned a little closer to the mirror and touched the rogue to her lips. Blood red, her daddy's favorite color.

Daddy believed she was beautiful enough to be a model. He'd told her that once, six months ago on her eleventh birthday, and since then he'd spent a lot of time and money to set up a photo studio in the basement of their house. Her mom had helped, and the two of them had spent hours each night learning how to take professional photos and develop them in the dark room they'd set up along with the studio. They had taught her how to walk and pose like a model, how to apply makeup, and how to figure out what kind of clothes she looked best in. And they bought her tons of clothes, dresses and skirts and tops and jeans and shoes and boots and bathing suits and nightgowns. They bought her jewelry too, necklaces and bracelets and earrings. Christina couldn't believe how lucky she was to have all that stuff just because she was beautiful, but she was happy to accept it.

With all the attention and compliments and nice things she got, Christina came to think of herself as something of a princess, and her parents and brother encouraged her to believe it. She did believe it in a way, but she tried not to let it go to her head; she knew that she wasn't better than anybody else, and she certainly knew (she could see for herself) that there were other girls who were way more beautiful than her. And she'd learned as her budding modeling career went along that because of her special place in the world people expected more from her than from other girls her age.

Modeling (and being a princess) was hard work sometimes. She spent a few hours each evening modeling and changing clothes, applying and touching up her makeup, going over the portfolio and selecting the best photos. It didn't really sound like hard work, but it made her tired sometimes, especially all that standing and posing and moving around and smiling while Daddy took pictures. And she didn't have time for her friends anymore, so she got kind of lonely too. And then there were the special things she did, the part of the business, as her daddy had explained it, that only she could do. She hadn't actually done any of it yet, not with any agents or fashion editors or whatever, but she did have an appointment with the people who published American Beauty magazine, and she figured she was just about ready. She'd been practicing with her daddy for almost four months now and he said she was getting very good at it. They practiced the special things (interviews, her daddy called them) on Saturdays while her mom was down at the Mission doing her volunteer work. She didn't mind doing the interviews; they could be fun sometimes, and her daddy had told her on more than one occasion that if she wanted to be a famous model (and an actress, she wanted to be an actress too) she had to be willing to do whatever it took.

Christina got up from her vanity and checked her appearance in the full length mirror that hung on her closet door. She was wearing a brand new outfit: a black and white camouflage top with spaghetti straps, a black leather miniskirt, and black patent leather calf high boots. Her daddy called it her "hot stuff" outfit, and she had to admit she looked pretty hot in it. Billy wasn't home but she was sure he'd like it if he saw it; he currently had a picture of her in her red white and blue Fourth of July bikini tacked to the inside of his closet door, but she figured one of the photos from this shoot would end up there too. She knew why he kept a picture of her for himself, of course. Her brother was sweet but he was crazy too.

She looked at the clock again. One minute to ten. Time to go.

She left her bedroom and went down the hallway to the stairs, then down the stairs to the living room. Just as she got there she saw her daddy reaching the door to the basement. He stopped and looked at her and his eyebrows went up and he got that dreamy romantic look in his eyes. Christina smiled shyly and clasped her hands together behind her, arching her back a little and pushing her tiny boobs forward liked she'd been taught to do. Her daddy gave her a soft wolf whistle and said, "Wow, Christina, you look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you, Daddy," she replied.

"Are you ready to get started?"

Christina nodded and followed her daddy down the stairs to the basement. The room was divided into three sections: on the far side was the dark room, which took up about a third of the space; the middle section was the studio area, populated with lights and tripods and hand held cameras and assorted props, where Daddy shot most of the photos; and the near side was sort of like a den, with a sofa and a coffee table and a loveseat and a small writing desk, all positioned around a fireplace. Daddy took pictures there too sometimes. The entire basement was done in thick blue carpet, which she appreciated, since she usually had to do stuff on her knees or laying on the floor, and the carpet was much more comfortable than the hard wood beneath it.

She found her mark while her daddy checked one of his cameras, then they got started. For half an hour she posed and moved around as he coached her and directed her to stand or kneel, to smile or pout or look sexy, to hold her hair up or push her boobs out a little more. They shot some more photos in the den area, with Christina draped over the loveseat and the sofa, leaning over the coffee table ("Stick your butt out a little more. Good girl, you're beautiful"), and sitting at (and on) the writing desk. For the last photo Christina stood in front of the fireplace with one knee on a stool and her hands down at her sides, not smiling but not sadgirl either. Daddy snapped a few shots, directed her to arch her back just a bit, and snapped a few more. Finally, he set the camera down on the desk and said, "Good job today, Princess. You were fabulous."

"Thank you, Daddy," Christina replied, taking her knee off the stool. Her daddy walked over to her, touched her hair as she looked up at him, and asked, "Are you ready to practice your interview, or do you want a break first?" Christina shrugged and said, "I guess we can do the interview first."

"Great," her daddy said. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She embraced him and rested her head against his chest. Her daddy kissed the top of her head and gently caressed her back. She closed her eyes and remained still as he slowly moved his hands along her spine, up around her shoulder blades, then back down to her waist. She felt his hands on her bottom, softly caressing as he pushed his body against hers. His hardon pressed against her tummy and she could feel his ribs like a gentle weight against her small boobs. Christina snuggled her daddy's neck, knowing he liked that.

Her daddy moved his hands lower, down to the hem of her miniskirt, then under it and back up to her bottom. Through her thin cotton panties she could feel his fingers exploring her. He clutched and fondled her little butt for a minute, then brought his hands around her hips to her front. His fingers lightly touched her thighs, then caressed her between her legs. After another minute or so he moved his hands back up along her hips and waist. He brought them together over her tummy, then slid them up under her top and over her small bare boobs.

Christina caught her breath; even though he'd touched her like this many times already, she was still surprised when she felt his large strong hands on her boobs. Her skin was so sensitive, and her little pink nipples even more so, that it always sent a sharp and strange little jolt through her young body. It reminded her, as it always did, that doing the interviews wasn't nearly as tiresome as she expected them to be. She wondered if the interviews she'd be doing for real would be like this.

Christina sighed as her daddy fondled her boobs, mashing and squeezing them, pulling tenderly on her nipples with his fingertips. A small smile came to her blood red lips and she found herself pushing her tummy against his hardon (her daddy had cautioned her to always be submissive and avoid seeming too eager, but she couldn't help it). He kissed her on the forehead and Christina looked up at him. He had that wonderful romantic look in his eyes as he kissed her again, this time on the lips. She remembered then that she hadn't wiped off her lipstick, but her daddy didn't seem to care; he just went ahead with kissing her and continued to caress her boobs.

Another minute or so went by before her daddy paused, his hands still holding her little boobs, and said, "Why don't you sit on the sofa this time, sweetheart?" Christina wordlessly went over to the sofa and sat down. Her daddy pulled the coffee table back, then stood directly in front of her. He put one hand on top of her head and said, "Okay, go ahead."

Christina reached out and unfastened the button on his jeans and pulled the zipper down. She remembered when she'd first practiced this part of the interview; she'd been scared and sort of grossed out and even a little bit sad, and she could see in retrospect that she hadn't done a very good job. But she'd done it so many times now that she wasn't scared or nervous anymore or grossed out or sad. She knew she'd be able to do a good job, and while she wasn't really looking forward to doing this part for real with some probably ugly fashion editor she'd never met before, she didn't mind practicing on her daddy. She liked to make him proud of her, and she knew it felt good for him. She reached inside his fly and gently pulled his cock out. It was long and thick and hard, and pointed almost straight up toward the ceiling. Christina thought it was kind of neat. She held it in her hand and looked up at her daddy, acting reluctant like he'd taught her to do: "reluctant, but willing t o do whatever they want." Her daddy pushed a little on the back of her head, moving her forward so that her lips were touching the end of his cock.

"Come on, little darlin," he said in his practice voice, "you know how to suck dick, don't you?" That meant he wanted her to pretend she knew what she was doing, which she figured she didn't really have to pretend.

She opened her mouth and slid her lips over the end of his cock until it got near the back of her throat, then closed her eyes and started to suck on it. She continued holding it with one hand and brought her other hand up to hold his balls while she moved her mouth up and down on him. She did that for a couple minutes, then paused to lick him, sliding her tongue up and down the shaft, all over his balls, and all around the knob on top, then started sucking him again. Her daddy was moaning a little and breathing heavier, and Christina wondered if he was going to come soon; last time he'd squirted in her mouth, and the time before that he'd gone off all over her face and even got some of it in her hair and she'd had to go take a shower.

She started to stroke his cock as she sucked on it, thinking he was probably getting close, but suddenly he took hold of her hand, making her stop, and said, "Okay, Christina, I want you to lay down on the sofa now."

She did as she was told, laying flat on her back on the sofa with her legs together and her hands at her sides. She used to not like this part of the interview the most, but it had become her favorite part as soon as it stopped hurting, and especially if he did what she thought he was going to do. Her daddy lay down next to her on the sofa, his hard cock pressing against her hip, and draped an arm and leg over her. He kissed her face several times, then lightly kissed her lips as his hand slid softly over her tummy and up over her chest. He pulled her top up as he went along, exposing her boobs, which were small to begin with but now that she was laying down they were hardly there at all. Her daddy fondled her as if they were still there, and Christina felt her little pink nipples getting hard. And she felt that really nice thing happening in her tummy too, like a warm fuzzy cloud was growing in there.

Her daddy kept kissing her, moving down her neck to her nipples, and licked and sucked on them for a minute, which turned the little cloud inside of her to lightning. At the same time his hand went up under her leather miniskirt again. He rubbed her again through her thin cotton panties as he continued kissing and licking her boobs and Christina responded with gasps and moans, moving her hips and arching her back, wanting it to get even better.

After another minute or so her daddy started to kiss her tummy, licking her bellybutton and making her giggle. Then he sat up and pulled her miniskirt up over her hips, took hold of the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her thin legs. As soon as they were off Christina spread her legs and her daddy readjusted himself on the sofa so that his head was between her knees. This was the absolute best part and Christina could hardly wait for him to get started. She held her breath and closed her eyes as her daddy held her little butt in his hands and lowered his head down between her legs. She didn't mind that it was her daddy doing all this stuff, or that she would eventually have to let some stranger at American Beauty magazine do it (she really was willing to do whatever it took), but what she liked to think about was her brother Billy. He was a cute guy, after all, and he was usually nice to her, and she figured that if he thought about doing this kind of thing to her then she could think about him too. So while she felt her daddy's tongue going slowly up and down her slim smooth legs, then over the lips of her pussy (which didn't have any hair on it yet) she pretended in her mind that it was Billy licking her like that. She could see him with his short spikey hair, bobbing between her legs, could feel his tongue slithering all over her pussy and even poking inside of her, and soon her tummy was growing so warm and full that she couldn't help but moan and cry out (she'd never been able to pretend that she didn't like this part), and then suddenly she was coming, the waves of pleasure shooting out in all directions from her tummy into her chest and arms and legs.

Her body was still trembling and tingling when her daddy crawled on top of her. She still had her eyes closed, and in her mind she imagined Billy laying down on top of her and kissing her neck as he held his cock up against her pussy. It was the knobby end of Billy's cock that slid almost effortlessly into her, filling her and stretching her out as the rest of him moved in until his balls bumped into her. It was Billy embracing her with love and tenderness as he slowly fucked her, and Christina, her body and heart and imagination responding, returned his embrace and kissed his shoulder. Her daddy fucked her for several minutes, his cock sliding steadily in and out of her young pussy, and Christina continued to see and feel her brother fucking her, the wonderful sensations inside of her grew stronger and stronger and her breathing and little yelps and moans became sharper and she moved naturally with her daddy, moving her hips and arching her back as he pushed and pushed inside her until finally her tummy and pussy exploded. Her arms and legs got real tense and she held her breath and made kitten noises as her orgasm poured through her. Then, just as the storm inside of her was calming down her daddy pushed deep into her and grunted and his cock pulsed with his own orgasm. Christina could feel it pumping and his come squirting into her pussy and she was happy because she knew it probably felt as good for her daddy as it did for her.

Afterward, Christina rested with her daddy on the sofa for a while, then he got up and suggested that she go in and take a shower before they took their lunch break. She got up from the sofa and went upstairs and took her shower, got cleaned up inside and out, then went back downstairs and had lunch with her daddy. As they were eating her daddy talked about their afternoon shoot ("I think we'll put you in cowgirl clothes, see how you look") but all Christina could think about at that point was doing it on the sofa with her daddy. Practicing her interviewing skills. She knew, of course, that it was wrong, probably even illegal, but she didn't care. She liked doing it, and she was willing to do whatever she had to do to become a famous model. And an actress. She wanted to be an actress too.