Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Author: JojoMojo Title: The Razor's Edge Part: 1 Universe: Vignette Summary: Shaving one's legs is a dangerous thing to the uninitiated. Keywords: Mf-teen, voy?, ped, cons The Razor's Edge A fantasy vignette by JojoMojo (Mf-teen, voy?, ped, cons) The following is completely and without a doubt a fictional account, 100 percent fantasy. That said, as I write, I reflect on the things that I experienced as a child, what felt good and what did not. Those experiences had a profound effect, and for the most part, I look back on them fondly. Caring, fun, ecstasy is what I'm interested in, for all involved, or it's not worth doing or writing about. Copyright (C)2013 by the author The scream cut though his sleep and left him wide awake, laying with eyes open and heart hammering wondering if it was a part of his mid-morning dream or if he had really heard a scream. He had taken advantage of his wife's offer to handle the kids' Saturday morning practices and decided to sleep in, certain that his almost 14 year old daughter wouldn't emerge from her "den" until well after noon. "Daddy, hurry!" The urgent tone in her voice brought him fully awake and propelled him from bed and out of the room. He followed her sobs across the clothes strewn floor of her room, to her bathroom, but stopped short at the closed door. He tapped lightly, "April, you ok in there?" he asked through the door. The sobs stopped temporarliy and he heard rustling and the lock turning. "C-come in, I need you." He hesitated having been reminded on several occasions in the way that only a teen daughter can, that he was expected to respect her privacy. Wanting to make sure before commiting an unforgivable intrusion, he asked through the door, "Are you decent?" "Yes," she replied. The urgency evident in that single word, "Daddy, please." He pushed open the door and his eyes followed a trail of ruby red drops of blood on the floor to his daughter standing with her bathrobe wrapped securly around her, one foot on the floor and the other in the tub, blood running down the inside of her calf. Her razor, laying where she had dropped it told the rest of the story. "I c-cut myself shaving," she sobbed, tears running down her face. April had always been one for drama, but he had to admit seeing his daugher with blood running down her leg did get the adrenaline pumping. He wasn't sure whether to hold her or to take care of the cut first. Remembering a conversation with a wise sage who helped him make it through the early years of marriage, he opted for emotional support first and grabbed his daughter around the shoulders, pushing her head onto his chest. "It's ok, honey, Daddy's here," he crooned. He chose correctly it seems, as she sniffled into his shoulder, "I-It's bleeding a lot, and I got blood on the floor and I screamed for you but then when you got here I was naked and I had to get my robe and... Why do girls have to shave our legs anyways? He held her tight and patted her shoulder, not sure how to respond the the barrage of words. Eventually she pulled away and looked up at him. "Can you fix it?" she asked, voice still shaky. Her tear stained face, eyes puffy from crying almost broke his heart. He guided her to sit on the toilet, one leg still in the tub. "Thank goodness for a small bathroom," he thought as he knelt in front of her, lifting the offending leg out of the tub and onto his knee. He pulled a wad of toilet paper from the roll and pressed it firmly against the cut on the inside of her calf, amazed that something so small could produce so much blood. She winced a little as he applied pressure and he looked up at her face to reassure her. As his eyes moved up from the cut, he couldn't help noticing that her robe had fallen open slightly and her vulva was quite visible. He managed not to stare and looked up instead into her eyes. "I'll get the bleeding stopped first, then we'll get you cleaned up," he said reassuringly, "OK?" She sniffed and nodded her head. "Thanks, Daddy," she said, her voice soft. He turned his attention back to her leg, but couldn't help glancing at her sex again. Even with two short glimpses he could see that she had changed quite a bit in the last four years. She was still just a cute wisp of a young woman, with slender hips that curved nicely and small breasts that he was sure were perky. Not quite a woman yet, but no longer a child. The stolen glances revealed full lips dusted with a few hairs, and the suggestion of a small light brown vee above the cleft; quite a change since he had last glimpsed a pair of thin, bald lips with a cute wrinkled hood poking from between them. To his dismay, he could feel himself growing aroused. He fought to focus on the cut and push the memory of what he had seen away. While he was not happy she had hurt herself, he found a certain satisfaction in being cast once again as the hero, a role he had not been allowed to play for quite some time. After a few minutes, he slowly pulled the paper away from her leg and was pleased to see that the bleeding had stopped. Two thin lines of dried blood marked the point where the offending double edged razor had done its damage. He gently moved her foot from his leg, taking another quick look at the cute lips staring at him from beneath the robe as he placed it on the floor. She met his eyes expectantly and he was glad that he had not allowed himself to dwell on those puffy lips. That would have quickly turned him from a hero into a heel. He had enough of a credibility problem with her these days. Nothing out of the ordinary, just typical teen age angst bumping against parental real world views. But, the last thing he needed was for his eldest to think he was a perv. "You stay there and I'll get something to clean you up," he said as he stood and reached above her to retrieve two wash cloths and some antibiotic cream from the cabinet over her head. He was glad that he had successfully circumvented the arousal that had recently awakened. As he reached for the supplies his thin sleep shorts would have been tented right at eye level. He turned to the tub and started the water running. The water took a notoriously long time to get warm in this bathroom. As he waited for for the warm water to appear, he wetted one of the cloths and began to clean blood from the bath tub and floor. Once that was finished, he sat with his hand under the spigot, and glanced at his daughter. She was busy inspecting the cut, her foot on the toilet seat, knee pushed out to the side so she could see the small wound on her inner calf. Her position pushed the robe open further, fully exposing her vulva, the lips open a bit, revealing dark pink inner folds. He was glad that she was engrossed in inspecting the cut, and didn't notice his gaze as it took a few moments for him to tear his eyes from her sex. Searching for something safe to look at his eyes cast about the small room and ended up on the pile of clothes in the corner where she had dropped them, blue PJs topped with red and white striped bikini briefs, another forbidden object. It seemed there was nothing safe to look at! He pulled his eyes from the panties and turned back to the water which was finally starting to warm. He took the clean cloth and held it under the hot water, wringing it out as he turned to face her. She slipped her foot from the toilet seat onto his leg, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her robe had fallen farther open, revealing her torso and the side of a breast as well as a full view of her vulva and the vee of soft brown hair. He bent to the task at hand feeling his face redden and himself harden, afraid she might have caught him looking. He gently drew the cloth up her leg, working to remove all the blood but not reopen the wound. He felt her hand on his head, fingers playing in his hair. Her touch transported him back to a time, not so long ago, when they were much closer. This was the first time in four years he had felt her touch like that. When she was little they would spend hours watching TV with her in his lap laying back against him, her arm stretched up and back idilly playing with his hair. But that was in a long ago time when she was truely a Daddy's girl. Lately it felt as if he was an unwelcome intruder in her otherwise perfect world. He took his time cleaning up her leg, enjoying the contact. When he could't draw it out any longer, he looked up at her. "I'll put some ointment on the cut to help it heal faster. OK?" He had trouble getting the words out and had to concentrate on looking directly into her eyes as her robe had fallen open a bit more, revealing a perfectly shaped, small pert breast, complete with light brown areola and nipple. He dropped the soiled cloth in the bathtub and picked up the ointment, glad to have something to concentrate on. As he unscrewed the top, he pondered how he was going to stand without revealing the obvious tent that had grown in his shorts. Fortunately he had a little time to figure it out. For the time being, the way he was kneeling hid his arousal. He rubbed in the ointment as gently as possible, then replaced the cap. "Would you put some lotion on my legs Dad? I'm afraid I'll make it start bleeding again" The tone in her voice caught him off guard, gentle and loving, maybe even a little breathy. He took the proffered bottle of lotion from her hand and squirted a blob into his hand. He worked it into her skin, careful to avoid the cut, stopping at her knee. He removed her foot from his leg and replaced it with her other foot. He squirted a second blob of lotion into his hands and began working the lotion up to her knee, enjoying the firmness, muscles built up playing soccer. He glanced up as he worked the lotion in. She was leaned back against the toilet, her eyes closed. The robe had fallen fully open, revealing the slender body of a young woman, slight curves where they should be, two perfect breasts the size of small oranges topped by light brown areolas and nipples that stood partially erect. Her sex was beautiful, a small vee of fine brown hair on top of a prominent pubic mound marked the top of her vulva. Full lips formed a deep cleft that continued down and between her slightly parted legs. He thought he could see a sheen of moisture in the cleft, but was afraid to look long enough to be sure. He forced himself to continue up and look at her face, eyes still closed closed, serene; and felt his heart skip, wishing for simpler times when she loved him without question. Her eyes fluttered open, just as his eyes traced her face for the second time. "Daddy," she started, her voice sounding more like the little girl he remembered than the teen sitting before him. "Do you remember how we used to play secret touch when I was a little girl?" He nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. Not a day went by wihtout something sparking a memory of the times that they had shared special touches and kisses; "secret touch" she had called it. Often she was the one to initiate their play by grabbing his hand and whispering in his ear. Hearing her ask to play secret touch had always instantly aroused him, even if it was at an inappropriate time with too many people around. When at almost ten, she had told him she didn't want to play that way anymore, he didn't argue. He'd always assumed that she would outgrow the desire for his special attention at some time. But even with that knowledge, it was hard to stop something he so enjoyed. She looked down at him, her foot still resting on his knee and let the knee fall slowly to the side. He couldn't help himself and glanced down at the lips as they parted, exposing dark pink flesh, shimmering, moist. "I'm sorry, I stopped secret touch," she whispered to him, running her fingers through his hair again. "I was embarrased because my body was starting to change and everything. The things they talked about in health class sounded gross and scary and I thought you'd stop loving me when those changes started." He managed to croak out, "That's ok honey. I always told you we could stop anytime you wanted and I meant it." "But, I didn't know how to start again," she continued. "You seemed so sad when I told you, I was afraid you'd be mad at me and say 'No' if I asked." She paused, almost as if she was gathering her courage. "Can we start again?" she asked in a half whisper. He nodded, "Sure honey, if you want to." Without another word, he slipped her foot off his knee and stood, unashamed of the tent in his shorts. "Will you carry me?" she asked, that little girl voice making his heart flip-flop. He bent, slipped his hand under her knees and the other around her shoulders, lifted her and held her close as she wrapped her arms around his neck, buring her face against him. He negotiated the doorway into her room careful not to bump her legs. He reached the bed, and sat her carefully on the mattress, she released his neck and let the robe fall from her shoulders to join the jumble of sheets and comforter before sinking back on to the bed, legs slightly spread. As he pulled his t-shirt over his head, he made a mental note to send a thank you to the Gillette company for helping to negotiate his little girl's return. comments? Use the completely anonymous comments page - www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JojoMojo/www/form.html want similar stories? https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JojoMojo/www/The_Razor's_Edge