I leaned against the wall in my bedroom and looked down onto the balding head of my Dad, as he feverishly tried to undo the four buttons that held the front of my denim mini skirt together. My blouse lay on the floor where Dad had thrown it after he had ripped it off me just a few moments ago. I looked at my exposed breasts and could see that there were already signs that, by morning, they would be scarred with his love bites. I could probably still stop him now if I wanted to, but did I? Hadn't I set all this up anyway? Hadn't I been looking forward to this all day and dressed so provocatively for his arrival? As he managed to get the top button of my short skirt unfastened, my mind went back to how it all started.