"Dance for me, Princesa. Pirouette, tiny dancer." And I twirl around the room, doing penchés, retirés, and Arabesques, giggling and spinning for my Daddy. Loving being his little one and dancing to please him. Pleasing him in every way I can. My arms are lifted into the second position and I go up on pointe. But I glance over along my arm, then cry out. 

"Daddy! Please, help me, Daddy. It's gone!" Shaking myself awake I reach over. Trying to touch my Daddy. I shiver with fear that he might not be there.

But he is. Always, now. He's awake and he kisses my forehead, running fingers through my ginger hair. He holds me close. He holds onto my arm and gently rubs the place where my right hand used to be. With my good hand, I reach down and feel his hardness between his legs. I stop whimpering and feel warm and safe. And he starts giving me what he knows I love. While I grab his naughty boy and stroke it slowly he's rubbing his leg stump against my kitty and especially my clitty, and it's fine 'cause it always makes me wet and tingly. Daddy's hard everywhere just for me.

Moaning now and licking on his neck while he keeps pressing his stump on my pussy. It feels so good. And I scream out how much I love my Daddy. So much. Coming all over my pale green panties and his leg just the way he likes it while I am jacking his big cock. Now I want to suck him, so I crawl around in the bed and take him in my mouth. Daddy always makes me come hard just thinking of him.

He is pumping in and out as he holds my pretty red tresses and he groans, feeding me lots of cock into my sweet mouth. He loves to come in my mouth, too. I'm making myself come over and over and I growl like a little fox kit. A vixen biting his hardness, making him shoot out so I can take it and swallow it. I am laughing out loud now. I love my Daddy so much.

Everyone has heard the sad stories about poor animals who get their little paws caught in a trap. How they have to chew a foot off to escape. That's really not a happy story. Knowing it's probably happened for a lot of poor little foxes and wolves and bunnies. Many sweet creatures. People are so mean, sometimes. It always used to make me cry to think about it. Well, it still does. Of course.

What is just so horrid is also thinking about all the people who get hurt the same way. Or some other way. Sometimes they do. Lots of ways. The way I did. The way I got so ugly. Or thought I did. I was wrong but I still can't help feeling bad.

Daddy knows that when I start crying in my room, on my bed, laid back on my pillows, it's me thinking about before. Before I met my Daddy, and before he met me. Before we each became the savior of the other.

On graduation day from high school, I and my best girls were out in my rusty old Ford clunker. We were celebrating and I was feeling so happy and carefree. Driving too fast. It was all my fault. That's the truth. But we were laughing and giggling and just having fun. We had stopped at the Tastee Freez and got some Cokes and burgers. I reached up to the dashboard to get some fries, dipping them into some ketchup, and my soda spilled onto my lap.

I jerked the wheel and alls I remembered were voices screaming, "No, Prissy, no!"

The next few weeks mom kept telling me over and over, "Priscilla, you're so lucky, baby, just to be alive. And you're left-handed, too. Oh, baby, we love you. You can still dance, you know? Honey, you can still dance."

Everyone thought that it was so important that I could still dance. From the time I was a little girl all the way up to the accident, I was in ballet classes. Now I was getting physical therapy classes for my missing hand. The hand that was gone forever. I must have spent just as many hours in my room crying as I did in the therapy sessions. 

At home, there was only my mother. My father had died from a heart attack about five years ago. I was completely depressed and wanted to just quit it all but kept on going to therapy and rehab. The people there were so strong. Hardly anyone acted sadly. I kinda felt like a loser. Do you know? I guess you don't. They wanted to get me a prosthetic hand but I decided not to then. 

I met Him there.

His name was Enzo and he was getting rehab for both his leg and his hand, getting fitted with new prosthetics. Enzo worked so hard getting stronger and doing anything they told him to do that would make him better. It was a wonder how beautiful his body really was, anyway. Anybody who had danced all their life, like me, would decide right off that he must have been a danseur.

I think he wanted to make sure that nobody ever would feel sorry for him. And nobody did. But it was easy to tell that, just like me, he was incredibly depressed. He hardly ever laughed. I really wanted to know his story, too. 

When he found out I danced or used to, he laughed out loud for the first time that I ever remembered. He asked me to dance for him there on the training mats. I couldn't. It was too embarrassing now with my hand missing and all when I danced around and used my arms. He just smiled and said, "Later, then, little one."

It was just lucky that we had our sessions on the same day and around the same time. Well, I sorta cheated on that. When I knew the days he was there I got my doctor to give me my appointments at the same time. I liked Enzo a lot.  

It was my eighteenth birthday coming up. The nursing staff and the physical therapists got me a cake and everyone who was there got to celebrate with me. Enzo was smiling kind of funny afterward and then, as he was leaving for the day he stopped by me there at the front desk.

"Tell me something, little one. Are you interested in getting dinner with me later this weekend? It would be a great way to celebrate your birthday. I hadn't really thought you were that old. But you're a full-grown adult lady now. What do you say, Princesa?" He always called me Princesa. I'm not sure why. But it made me tingle when he said it. 

"Sure, Enzo. I'd love it, of course. I can just meet you there." He told me about the restaurant. It was a good idea not to meet a stranger at your home even if you thought you knew them. Enzo understood that, 'cause he was really a smart guy.

When I got home I took a shower and while I was in it, with the hot water running over my body, I started caressing my clitty with my stub. I had found out that it gave me odd and funny and really sexy feelings when I did that. I could come so fast and hard. I was already coming right then with my legs spread apart and knees bent, then coming up on my toes with arms in the third position, almost on point, as my stump rubbed over my swelling kitty lips.

I was giggling with glee and then sobbing, down in the shower. I don't know why. I was simply slumped down with the water falling over me. 

I wondered what it would feel like with Enzo's arm stump, or even his leg stump, rubbing my vulva and making my pussy come the way I was coming now. I didn't want a guy to touch me after the accident. Why would they want to? I wasn't a virgin anymore but who would want me now?

It's kind of a secret but every dancer knows. Dancing and the way dancers look, it's all so sexy. Really. Everyone has lovely sensual bodies. It's part of the whole thing. And we all know that men and women both are aroused when they watch from the audience. We all know that even if we don't think about it much. But I always did. I always wanted to watch from the wings as the men danced, either by themselves or in a beautiful, loving pas de deux.

It was an open secret. But many of us were wet at the end of a performance, and not just from perspiring. No. Not just from working up a sweat.

Something kind of funny happened while I was getting ready to go out. I shaved. While I was doing it, absentmindedly, I thought of what one of my girlfriends told me one time. She said that when a girl shaves they know that they are looking to have sex with the person they are going out with. I giggled, but I wondered as I kept getting rid of the hair on my body. I left a little heart shape of my ginger pubes. I thought it was cute.

My little bunny, Miss Wiggles, thought so too. I gave her a hug before I left to go out.

That Saturday night was wonderful. It was for me. And Enzo was laughing a lot so I knew he was happy. Even when he had trouble getting under the table they put us at he just made a joke about it. It was all so cool being with him. He had worn his hand prosthetic as well as his leg. But when his steak came he let me use my left hand to help him with his right hand and cut his steak. That was like kinda close and thrilling. Don't you think?

"You're just a perfect little one, aren't you, Princesa?" That's what he told me. And I knew then that I was. I didn't know exactly what it meant for me, but I wanted there and then to be his little one. But I was so afraid. I mean, I was ugly now, right? Was he being nice to the cripple now? 

That was so stupid. Wasn't it? See, Enzo had lost his hand and his leg. But he wasn't ugly to me. Maybe when I was a stupid school girl I would have thought so. But now, everything was changed. And maybe, just maybe, I would not be ugly to him.

He had been traveling with a troupe in Europe when their plane had crashed. He lost his leg right away and then the hand after many operations. The only reason he was even talking about it was that he knew I might understand. Because we were both dancers. Ballet had been our lives and now, perhaps, it was all gone.

I could tell he was much more despondent than I had been. Maybe. I don't really know. But he had been a professional. It had been what he wanted to do with his life. He did say that his plan now was to teach. That would be something he might be able to do and still stay in dance. 

Of course, I felt sorry for him. But I wouldn't say that to him, any more than he would say it to me. We both were going to make it. I knew that I was now that I saw what a great person Enzo was. I felt so lucky to even know him.

I called home that night and told my mother that I was staying with a girlfriend. And to take care of Miss Wiggles. 

That was the night I found my Daddy and became his little one. His Princesa.

We went to his apartment downtown, above a deli. I saw immediately that he did have plans to teach. His apartment was really just one large studio where he could hold ballet sessions. There were three barres attached to the walls and huge mirrors covered the walls. We talked for a long time.

Finally, we really got into a true understanding of each other. He convinced me to dance for him. To show him what I knew. I just took off my shoes. It's always easy to dance in bare feet if you don't have slippers. I showed him all of the positions for the feet and the arms. I didn't really think about my hand.

He was smiling continuously now, and I could tell he thought I was good. I knew I was but it meant the world for him to think so as well.

I could see him rubbing himself through his pants. Just the way I would sometimes do when I watched other dancers on stage and no one could see me. I wasn't alone. I knew that others were like me. And he was actually using his good hand along with his arm where the hand used to be. Just the way I would do sometimes now. Feeling the loss but still feeling the old hand still there.

Dancing was the most sensual art in the world. The most beautiful and the most lustful, as well.

"Does it upset you, little one, to have me touch myself this way while you dance? I love ballet and, you have to understand, it is wonderfully pleasing to see your poor dancer's feet. They have been through so much becoming a wonderful dancer. Come here. Let me rub your feet, precious."

I smiled and went over to him on the sofa. I sat down and stretched out my legs with my feet in his lap. He grinned at me and then began massaging my feet so tenderly with his one, strong hand. I sighed and relaxed then leaned back.

He got up and slipped his prosthetic leg off after removing his trousers.

"You are my first lover since the accident, little one. My very first. It doesn't sicken you to see me, does it?"

He was terribly concerned but I blurted out, "No, oh, god no. I thought I would forever be ugly and lost. You're beautiful, Enzo."

"Call me Daddy. Is that alright? You are my little darling from now on, and I am your Daddy. You're going to help me with my school. Just like all ballet teachers you're going to keep taking classes and also teach with me here." 

I was staring at his manhood now. It curved up and was all veiny looking but I liked it a lot. It had a drop of come sitting on the little hole. I hesitated and then reached out with my good hand and rubbed the come with my thumb. I giggled as it twitched and he laughed.

He sat back down. "Put your feet on my cock, baby girl. Go on, that's a good Princesa. Let me feel your poor, strong, sweet feet on my cock, little one." Now I was trying to tickle his hard prick with my toes, laughing and trying to stroke it. Using them like fingers. It was funny but it was also making me all wet. I could feel my clitty against my lacy panties and my kitty lips getting all juicy.

Daddy grabbed both feet in his hand as he stroked his hardness through the arches of my feet. He was fucking them as I laughed and then moaned. I had slipped my free hand down into my skirt and found my clitty. I was ready to come when Daddy did. 

"Oh, sweetie. Suck it now! That's a good girl. Suck me now. Fuck." And I eagerly pulled my hand out of my panties, grasped his stiffy and wrapped my lips around it, sucking and licking, and then taking in the come he spurted into my throat.

My mother cried when I moved out with my clothes and Miss Wiggles hiding deep inside the boxes. I could tell she liked Enzo and knew he was going to be strong and good to me. She was so happy when she learned all about our dance school plans.

That night we were playing on the battered old sofa in our huge studio. I knew I was home for good with Miss Wiggles sitting up on a shelf over the bed. Daddy and I had spent a lot of time just touching and absorbing ourselves, lying there without any clothes, and not worrying about ugly or beautiful anymore. Just learning to love each other. 

I became completely filled with the majesty of Enzo's body. It was still incredibly magnificent and magical. Especially as he took me from behind with his thick, stiff cock filling my tingling kitten treasure box, as he called it. I was crying out with pleasure and need. Then I wanted something new. I wanted all of him.

"Please, Daddy. Use the 'gone away' hand. Use that on me and let me know what it feels like. I want that." I whimpered and pushed back, taking him deeper and deeper. 

He laughed out loud, then pulled himself out and I felt something hard and strong pressing against my kitten. It was filling me completely to the core. I groaned out loud and just felt the passion simply occupying my body. His arm was fucking me like a cock but in such another whole realm of lust. And he laughed again. He kept pressing his stump in and out while he began feeding his prick into my pussy as well.

All by himself, my darling Daddy was double penetrating his little one. I was loving it and loving him. It was going to be such a grand tour of learning and teaching for each of us.

The next night I was planning something special. I was going to have Daddy put on just his dance belt. The one for ballet danseurs where the man places his member upward with the balls underneath. And a bit of thong in the back along his masculine butt crack. I was going to be a brat and give my Daddy a little surprise. I was going to butter up my "gone away" hand and show him what it feels like going deep into his bum. 

It was going to be a good surprise and then Daddy could punish me with a good spanking.