I jumped a little as Dad’s fingers squeezed my bottom through the thin material of my floral summer dress. Mum squeezed my hand and stroked it reass...ringly as he lifted my dress up and over my bottom in order to reveal my underwear. Dad audibly gasped from behind me, and for a moment there was silence. I’d worn frilly pink panties in the hope that I would be as lucky as my sister before me. Dad’s response seemed to be one of approval. I stared into Megan’s eyes and my mouth opened a little as. Is that how you’d like to be seen?” I asked. “I find that sometimes we think of ourselves differently in our heads than in our mirrors. I had a model in class last fall who was a really old woman—I mean 80s at least—who loved the portrait one of my classmates did showing her with no wrinkles. She said it captured who she really was.”“My god. Do you psychoanalyze all your clients? Yes, that’s how I want to think of myself. I want to see me as I was when I was twenty and fresh and had four fewer. More

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