6 comments/ 36053 views/ 6 favorites Lacey By: Lacey "Turn around," he ordered and she did so. "Put your hands on the top of the desk," he ordered She gasped and wanted to turn around when she felt the hem of her dress being pulled up. She gritted her teeth and kept her palms flat on the desk, eyes closed, cheeks burning in shame as he exposed her red panties. "Red is the color of a whore, Miss Smith," he commented dryly and she gritted her teeth. "Are you a whore, Miss Smith?" "No, no sir," she whispered. She was mortified as she felt his fingers lightly stroke her backside, but kept her hands on the desktop. She heard a whistling sound, and then felt a white-hot pain sear her upper thighs. Aah!" she screamed out loud and brought her hands back to protect her flesh. "Put your hands back on the desktop," he ordered and she slowly did so, trembling in fear and pain. Four more blows came, and three more times he had to order her to put her hands back on the desktop. "I trust that you will not forget my before dinner cocktail again," he commented and sat down to sip his coffee. "No, no sir," she whispered, unable to speak above a whisper. "You may leave now, Miss Smith," he said and she walked on extremely unsteady legs toward the library door. "Miss Smith?" he asked. "Yes sir?" she replied. "Please, pull your dress down; your panties are showing," he said and stuck a forkful of the cake into his mouth. "Yes sir," she said and pulled the hem of her dress down again. Chapter 4 "Miss Smith, you have been in my employ now for exactly one month," he smiled as she put the vegetable omelet in front of him. "Yes sir," she agreed. "Are you happy here in my employ?" he asked. "Yes sir, very happy," she said and waited. "Good, good," he said and took a bite of his omelet. She put her own plate down and began to eat her breakfast. She winced slightly; she'd been nearly twenty minutes late with dinner last night. One lash from his riding crop for every minute he'd had to wait for his dinner. They'd both agreed that it had been eighteen minutes. "It wasn't my fault," she'd protested at first. "The meat was still frozen." "Your failure to plan appropriately is not my problem," he coldly said. "I too have enjoyed having you in my employ," he said as he sipped his tomato juice. "Thank you sir," she said happily. To hear that he was pleased filled her heart to overflowing and she smiled her crooked little smile and blushed. "I propose, since we are a little more comfortable with each other that we may dispense with the strict formalities," he went on. "What do you mean, sir?" she asked. "That," he said. "That right there. 'Sir.' And of course, 'Miss Smith.'" "Do you want me to call you 'Uncle Greg' again?" she asked. "No, no, I was thinking I would like it if you would address me as 'Daddy,'" he said and munched on the whole-wheat toast. "Daddy?" she asked, startled. "Yes, Lacey, Daddy," he said and got to his feet. He stroked her cheek, a familiar gesture by now and she blushed as he did so. She then giggled lightly as he trailed his finger along the light dusting of her freckles then left the room. ---- She was putting the skillet away when he strode through the kitchen on his way to the garage. "Have a nice day, Daddy," she sang out. "You too, Lacey," he answered, and then he was gone. ---- His secretary buzzed him that Mr. Timmons was on line four. He took the call and agreed to have Mr. Timmons over for dinner that Friday evening. As he was acquiring Timmons storage for nearly half of its proposed value, it was the least he could do. "This Friday evening," he said as he cut into the tenderloin, "We are having a dinner guest." "Yes sir," she said and nibbled on her carrot stick. "Lacey, I would like it if you would wear something, ah, how can I say this?" he mused. "Um, wear something a little suggestive. Perhaps something with a low cut neckline. A shorter hemline." "Daddy!" she gasped. "Are you asking me to, to dress sexy?" "Precisely," he said and cut another bite of the pork tenderloin. "I am asking you to 'whore it up' for the enjoyment of my guest and of course, myself." "I don't believe I have anything that is appropriate to 'whore it up,'" she blushed hotly as she said the vulgar words. "Hmm," he mused. "Very well." He pulled out his heavy money clip and peeled off ten one hundred dollar bills. "Take this, go to the mall and buy several outfits to be worn on those occasions when it may be necessary for you to display your feminine charms," he said and lightly kissed her cheek before leaving the dining room. She rubbed her cheek in wonder, and then finished her lunch. ---- The salesgirl smiled warmly as a blushing Lacey put the clothing on the counter. "Yeah, red's like my favorite color too," she enthused as she rang up the scarlet miniskirt. 'Red is the color of a whore,' he'd said to her. "But this black's real cool too," the girl prattled on and put it into the bag. "Um, where's the best shop to get intimate apparel?" Lacey whispered as the girl openly admired the gauzy blouse. "Probably Macy's," the girl offered. "'Cause, you're going to need a camisole to go with this top." "Thank you," Lacey said and left the shop. The salesgirl at the shoe store did not try to disguise her interest in Lacey. Lacey did not encourage her, just looked at then bought the two closed toe pumps, both with five inch heels, one in black, one in firehouse red. "Yeah, we call those 'FM Specials,'" the girl smiled knowingly. Lacey got the meaning and blushed hotly. The saleswoman in the intimate apparel department of Macy's did little to ease Lacey's embarrassment, even clucked her tongue when Lacey picked up a bra with the nipples cut out. Her tone did change slightly when Lacey's purchase totaled one hundred and ninety four dollars. Morality and money rarely mix. And, more often than not, money wins in that contest. ---- He smiled his approval when she came out of the kitchen and put his old-fashioned down for him. She pirouetted slightly as she turned to return to the kitchen. Her red shoes clicked on the marble tiles and she mentally cursed the five-inch heels; they were difficult to walk in. "Very nice, Lacey," he commented as they sat down to eat their dinner. "Thank you Daddy," she said. "I put the change and the receipts on your desk in the library." "Very good. But Lacey, our dinner guest is not coming until Friday; you did not have to wear that outfit tonight. Your usual attire would have been sufficient," he said. "I know, Daddy," she said and cut a piece of the roast beef. "I wanted to make sure that it met your approval though." "It does," he said and smiled warmly at her. That evening, when she put his warm brownie and vanilla ice cream down in front of him at his desk, he surprised her by gently taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "Be careful this week, my dear Lacey," he murmured. "I would not want our guest to see any welts on your thighs; that skirt does show a good deal of your leg." "Yes Daddy," she promised. "Good girl," he said and again squeezed her hand affectionately. ---- Mr. Timmons was a short and extremely hairy man. His beady eyes followed Lacey's every move and Lacey shuddered inwardly at his lecherous looks. "Lacey, please join us at the dinner table," Greg said and Lacey nodded her head yes. Lacey served the roast beef, saw that she'd forgotten the gravy and returned to the kitchen. Gregg came in right behind her. "You are doing very well," he whispered, and then eased the hem of her red miniskirt up. She froze, horrified as he began to ease her red thong panties down and let them drop to the floor. He let the hem of her miniskirt fall, then affectionately patted her rump and left the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the gravy boat and returned to the dining room. When she sat down, she stifled a gasp; her pussy was soaking wet. "We will take our coffee and dessert in the library," Greg said when they'd finished the meal. "Yes, Daddy," she said and left the dining room. She blushed hotly when she saw the panties crumpled on the floor. She picked them up then put them on the marble countertop. She cut two pieces of the cake, and then warmed them slightly in the microwave. Two cups of decaffeinated coffee, cream and sugar containers war placed on the tray. Every step she took made the hem of the silk skirt swish and served to remind her that she wore no panties underneath the skirt. She nudged the door open and brought the tray over to the desk. Mr. Timmons beady little eyes followed her every move and she blushed hotly; to put the tray down without dropping it, she would have to bend at the waist. If she bent at the waist, the hem of her skirt would rise up, revealing a good expanse of her legs. Bending over too much in the ridiculously short skirt could expose the fact that she was without panties. "You're not joining us?" Mr. Timmons whined. "No, no," she smiled. "I certainly don't need any dessert." "Oh, come on," he said, staring at her chest. "A few pounds here and there won't hurt you." "No, but thank you," she again refused and left the room. "Lacey?" the metallic voice crackled over the intercom speaker in the kitchen. "Yes, Daddy?" she asked. "Mr. Timmons and I would appreciate some more coffee, please," he said and terminated the call. She blushed as Greg purposefully placed the cup at a distance. She had no choice but to bend and stretch to fill his coffee cup. Mr. Timmons was not as manipulative, but she, for reasons she did not know, bent over to refill his cup as well. His beady little eyes went down the front of her blouse and she again blushed hotly. Shortly after eleven o'clock, Mr. Timmons was ushered to the front door and Greg strode into the kitchen to let Lacey know her workday was over. "Why did you do that to me?" she whispered as she pointed to her panties on the kitchen counter. "Because you enjoyed it," he said. She looked at him and he smiled at her. He touched her cheek in his normal fashion, then leaned over and kissed her on her lips, a soft kiss. "Good night, Lacey," he said. "Don't worry about breakfast tomorrow morning; it's Saturday." Chapter 5 "What a beautiful outfit," he complimented her and she smiled widely. She set his drink down and twirled around so that he could see all of the short dress. It was a black dress with long sleeves, a bunging neckline that ended right between her breasts. The hem reached mid-thigh. Her five inch black pumps completed the outfit. "Yes, that is very nice," he said and reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "I can think of only one thing that would compliment such an outfit," he said and pulled the long flat box out of the pocket. "Oh!" she gasped as he pulled the strand of pearls from the box. "Oh, thank you Daddy!" "You're welcome," he said and stood behind her. "Here, let me..." She pulled her long hair out of the way and he fastened the necklace around her neck. She turned so that he could see how the pearls looked and he smiled down at her. "Yes, very nice, he said and lightly tugged on the bottom of the strand, nestled between her large breasts. "Thank you so much, Daddy," she said. He did not remove his hand from in between her breasts as he bent over and kissed her on her lips. "Thank you Daddy," she murmured again and rapidly left the den, toward the kitchen. ---- She brought him the pecan pie and coffee and set it down on his desk. He did not look up from the ledger he was reading, but put his arm around her slender waist. She stood there, relishing the feeling of his large, masculine hand on her hip, his powerful arm around her waist. Finally, he finished reading the page in the ledger and looked up at her. She smiled at his old-fashioned reading glasses and he smiled back. Then he pulled her to him and kissed her lips softly. "Thank you, Lacey, that'll be all," he said and typed rapidly on his computer keyboard. "Thank you, Daddy," she said and left the room. She was very disappointed that she'd been dismissed. She would have loved to kiss him some more, would have loved to have his powerful arms hold her tightly. She would have loved it if his large hands had cupped her breasts, even squeezed them painfully hard. They'd been tingling non-stop ever since he'd brushed between them as he admired the strand of pearls. ---- "We are having another dinner guest tonight," he said as she put the waffle down in front of him. "Mr. Timmons again?" she asked. "Hmm?" he mused, and then looked at her. "No, no, not Mr. Timmons; my business with him has been completed." "Okay," she said and ate her own waffle. "Please be sure to wear, um, something quite fetching," he said and stood. "You mean, really whore it up?" she teased, despite a hot blush. "Exactly," he smiled and cupped her cheek in his loving gesture. "I'd like for you to be a total slut." She gasped at the harsh, vulgar word and looked up into his blue eyes. "Do you need some money to go shopping?" he asked her. She mentally ran through her clothing and slowly nodded her head yes. She had acquired several sexy outfits, but none that would suffice to make her a 'total slut.' She smiled to herself; bending over as she was, to put the waffle iron away, the crotch of her red panties was quite visible to his eyes. She turned and smiled at the handsome man. "You look so handsome in that black suit, Daddy," she said. "Thank you," he smiled and then peeled off ten one hundred dollar bills and held them out to her. "I will not be home for lunch; there are some managers in from Japan that I'll be in conference with." "Oh, how many will be coming for dinner tonight?" she asked. "Just the one guest," he said. "Daddy, I don't need this much money," she said and tried to give eight of the bills back to him. "Take it, buy more than one outfit," he said and kissed her on her lips softly. ---- She couldn't meet the salesgirl's eyes as she selected the items off of the racks in the fetish boutique. She'd seen the store several times in the past and had turned her nose up at the people she'd spotted coming in and out of the store. "If you buy more than five hundred dollars, we throw in a free dvd," the girl offered but Lacey ignored her. Finally she brought a red corset, a white corset, red leather and a black leather miniskirt, black leather minidress, a black patent leather miniskirt, a black patent leather sports bra and a fishnet top. "Six hundred forty two, God, I wish I could wear that corset, my boobs ain't big enough. You got the boobs for it, though," the girl said then looked at the available movies. "You want anal, lesbian, fisting, cum shots?" "I don't care," Lacey managed to whisper. "Fisting's our most popular one," the girl said. "I'll give you that, okay?" "Fine, fine," Lacey hoarsely whispered. "I threw in the lesbian one too," the girl whispered as she handed Lacey the packages. "It's my favorite." "Thank you," Lacey said and could not pull her head up. "Come again," the girl called out, then turned her attention to the striking looking red head that was looking at the chastity belts. ---- Her blood ran cold as she forced herself to walk into the den to serve Daddy his drink and to ask the guest what he would like to drink. She wore the white corset and black leather miniskirt with her black pumps. The guest was a beautiful Asian woman. Her golden skin and long jet-black hair was made all the more attractive by the white dress she wore. It was a spaghetti strap dress that molded itself to the woman's small breasts and very narrow waist. The hem ended at her upper thighs; had she not held her legs firmly together, Lacey would have been able to see the woman's crotch. Lacey also noticed the small overnight bag that sat on the floor next to the woman's chair. The two women looked at each other for a long moment, then Lacey remembered her place. She was the housekeeper, this was a guest. "Ma'am, would you care for a drink before dinner?" Lacey asked, her voice trembling. "I would like a vodka martini," the woman answered then turned her attention back to Greg. Lacey stood, poised at the doorway of the dining room, should Daddy and his guest need anything. "Lacey," Greg called out and she hustled to get to him. "Yes, Daddy?" she asked. "We'll be in the library," was all he said as he reached out his hand and helped the young girl to her feet. Lacey stared hatefully at the girl's back; her pert little bottom swayed enticingly as she and Greg walked, hand in hand, toward the library. She cleared the dinner dishes away quickly, and then hastened to finish the dessert. She'd prepared a peach pie for Daddy's Japanese guest, in homage to Georgia being the 'Peach State.' She wondered if she could get away with spitting in the guest's coffee. Her blood ran cold again when she entered the library. Suhito's poise had given slightly, thanks in part to the four alcoholic beverages she'd consumed earlier. She no longer kept her legs together and smiled knowingly at Lacey. Lacey could not help but look quickly at Suhito's crotch and could see that the girl wore no panties. She could also see that Suhito was highly aroused. The fine black hair did not conceal the pink slit, spread apart as Suhito's legs were. Her light pink lips were very swollen and dripped with moisture. Suhito accepted the cup of coffee with a nod, and then made a show of licking her lips as she looked at the pie. "That looks delicious," she murmured and racked a fingernail down Lacey's arm. "Thank you," Lacey whispered. "That will be all, Lacey," Greg ordered. "If we need anything else, we'll get it ourselves. "Yes sir," Lacey whispered and barely made it out of the library before the tears began to fall. ---- She cried herself to sleep that night and did not indulge in her favorite pastime of masturbating in the tub. She would begin to fill the tub, then lie down and scoot forward until her buttocks rested firmly against the wall of the tub. Her legs she would stick straight up, resting against the wall, and let the gushing water hit directly against her pussy. A moment or two of this was all she could stand before she would grunt and groan and thrash in helpless orgasm. Afterward, she would rasp the rough washcloth along her pussy lips, and then slowly drag the washcloth around until she found her clitoris. She would gulp as much air as possible to stifle the groans and moans, as another powerful orgasm would rack her body. This whole ceremony was usually intensified if Daddy had found it necessary to discipline her. The welts seemed to be a sponge for the hot water, aching and tingling and stinging as she sat in the marble tub. But tonight, she did not bathe at all, just collapsed onto the bed and sobbed miserably. ---- Suhito smile seemed almost mocking as Greg and she sat at the table. Lacey sullenly put the poached eggs, bacon, and grits in front of them. She returned a moment later with their juice and coffee. "Will there be anything else?" she asked. "No, thank you," Suhito answered and Lacey stared at her for a moment before turning and looking at Greg. "No, Lacey, that will be all," he said and she curtsied and left the room. She stared daggers at Suhito, dressed in a woman's business suit, looking quite poised and professional. If Suhito saw her, or sensed her, she did not let on. Chapter 6 "Tonight is a celebration," he smiled as Lacey served the steaming oatmeal. "Oh?" she asked, looking at him. "Yes, you've been in my employ for six months now," he smiled.