Innocent Lacey

All characters in this story are over the age of 18.

*****

The day I met Mr. Anders, I was sunbathing by the pool in Daddy's backyard. The sun was scorching hot through the thick layer of coconut oil on my slender body. My bikini was small, just three tiny black triangles. The top just barely covered my hard nipples, and the thong bottom showed off the hot curves of my ass. At 19 years old, I was increasingly frustrated by the fact that I was still a virgin.

I looked over the rim of my sunglasses and saw him staring at me: Daddy's neighbor. Daddy had mentioned that a guy named Michael Anders bought the house next door last fall. I'd noticed him a couple of times already since coming home for the summer after my freshman year at college, but always from a distance. Now, he was only a few feet away, hovering at the edge of Daddy's pool patio.

Mr. Anders was buff and tan, but clean cut. He wore a polo shirt and khakis, and I could see his large biceps under his short sleeves. He was pruning some kind of shrub by the hedge, but had stopped to stare at me.

How rude

, I thought, but my body reacted strangely. I sweltered under his gaze. Sweat beaded on my skin. Clearing my throat, I sat up and threw on my cover-up, a little black lace baby-doll number.

"Hello," I said pointedly.

Mr. Anders put the pruners down slowly.

"Hi." His voice was strong and deep. "Sorry to disturb you, I was just startled to see you there. You're not Mr. Petersen."

"I'm his daughter."

He must have taken that as an invitation, because he strode through the gap in the hedge separating Daddy's yard from his. He put his hand out and said, "I'm Michael Anders. Just moved in here last winter. I didn't know Petersen had such a beautiful daughter. How old are you?"

"I turned 19 this spring," I said, caught off guard by the question.

His hand was big and strong, his grip firm. His gaze caught me and held me frozen. "That's a nice age."

Unnerved, I stammered, "What are you pruning? I mean, don't you have a gardener to take care of that?" No one did their own yardwork in our neighborhood.

He smiled, and something inside of me melted. Even standing in the shade now, I was burning up. He was so hot and just looking at him was making me moist between my legs.

"Oh, that." He turned and gestured toward the sprawling shrub. "Yes, the gardener takes care of the yard, but I have a few prized possessions that I tend to myself. Do you want to see it?"

I couldn't help myself, my gaze dropped to the bulge in his khakis.

Oh, yes I do

, I thought, then scolded myself.

His grin when I looked back up told me he noticed where my gaze had travelled. I felt like he could read my every thought.

Oh God

. Maybe he would mistake my blush for sunburn.

I followed him over to the shrub he'd been pruning. Not pruning, I realized. Cutting flowers. A bunch of long-stem roses from this plain looking little bush sat nearby in a bucket of cold water.

"They're beautiful," I whispered. The petals were like deep red velvet, the silvery sheen enticing. I brushed my fingers against them and inhaled the sweet, spicy scent. I looked up and saw him watching me intently.

"I collect beautiful things," he murmured. His gaze was penetrating.

"I have to go home now, Daddy will be back soon," I said, suddenly afraid. He was gorgeous and stirred a frightening desire deep inside me. I couldn't allow myself to think those thoughts. I was saving myself for Daddy. I had to get away before I lost control completely.

"What's your name?" he asked as I turned and walked away.

"Lacey," I answered over my shoulder.

"Lacey, catch!"

I turned and he threw me a rose. He'd stripped the thorns away. The color was unbelievably deep, passionate red. I realized suddenly what he had left unsaid before. He wanted to add me to his collection of beautiful things.

"Thanks," I stammered, and ran the rest of the way to the house.

When Daddy came home, he noticed the rose right away and asked me about it.

"It's from Mr. Anders. I met him by the pool today, Daddy."

"Really." Daddy looked a little concerned, so I tried to smooth things over. I was afraid of how I felt about Mr. Anders, but I didn't want to be forbidden to see him.

"He was very nice," I offered. "A perfect gentleman."

"Uhuh. Listen, Princess, I have some bad news. Remember how I told you this was going to be our special summer together?"

"Yes, Daddy! Just the two of us, alone all summer."

I shivered with anticipation at the promise of this summer. When I turned 18 and graduated high school, I joined the Princess Club, a local organization for father and daughter bonding. The Princess Club was a secret tradition in our community, very exclusive, and membership was highly sought after. To join, I had to abstain all through high school, staying chaste for Daddy. Last summer, once I was 18 years old, I was initiated into TPC and taught how to please my Daddy by the older girls. I'd already started to serve him and tease him by the end of last summer, but this summer he would finally pop my cherry. We'd been building up to it for a few days now; making out, caressing, me giving him blow-jobs, and I was ready to take the final step of initiation.

"I have some bad news," Daddy said. "I got called into a crisis. I'm leaving for Milan in a few days, and I'll probably be there all summer."

"Oh, Daddy!" I pouted, on the verge of tears. "What am I going to do all summer?"

"I don't know, Baby. Come here." He folded me in his arms, his stubbled chin resting on my head, his hands exploring my curves through the thin lace cover-up. "I'm worried about you. You're so hot and ready, I can't ask you to wait another year. But I don't want to take your innocence and then just leave you alone."

"I know, Daddy." I sobbed a little. "This was going to be our summer."

"Don't worry, Baby. I'll think of something."

His words reassured me. He dried my tears with kisses, then tickled me until I started giggling. We had fun the rest of the evening, cuddling and kissing, but a shadow hung over everything now.

A few days later, the night before he was to fly out, Daddy came home and said, "I need to talk to you, Princess."

He sounded very serious. "Okay, Daddy."

He sat on the couch and I knelt at his feet attentively. "What do you think of Michael?"

"Mr. Anders? He's nice, I guess." My face burned as I remembered his strong hand, his intense gaze, the scent of the roses. The flower he gave me was still fresh in the vase in the kitchen.

"Don't lie to me, Princess. Are you attracted to him? Would you like to fuck him?"

I was startled by his strong language. "I guess so. Yes, Daddy."

"You know how sometimes in the Princess Club, daddies buy each other's daughters—for a night, or a week, or a month?"

"Yes, Daddy." My pussy lips moistened and slid open at the thought. I wouldn't be sold until I had fully learned how to serve my own daddy, of course, but eventually I might be traded or auctioned to one of my friends' fathers. There were several daddies in town I would love to belong to for at least a night.

"Well, this is kind of like that. Michael Anders has offered to purchase you from me."

"But he's not even part of the Princess Club!"

"No. You would cease to be a member of the club. You would belong to Michael."

"For the summer?"

"I tried to talk him down to three months, but he was very adamant. He wants all or nothing. He'll only take you if you're chaste, and he's offering to purchase you forever."

"Oh, Daddy!" My bottom lip trembled. Never see Daddy again? But I thought of Mr. Anders big strong hands, and the massive bulge in his khakis. His reassuring voice. The beautiful roses. He would be a good Master, I could tell instinctively. I already found myself wanting to please him.

"I told him the answer was almost certainly no. But I didn't want to make a final decision without letting you know it's an option. Especially since I have to neglect you this summer."

I looked up at Daddy. That was his way of telling me the choice was mine.

I didn't want to have to make a choice like this.

"What should I do, Daddy?"

He was quiet for a while. Finally, he said, "I think you should consider it seriously. Mr. Anders has a strong reputation in the BDSM community as a fair and attentive master. Membership in the Princess Club ends at the age of twenty-five, but Mr. Anders is offering to take you on for the rest of your life. You could do worse."

"But what about you, Daddy?"

"I'll be wishing it was me taking your hot little slit for the first time and enjoying you all summer," he smiled down at me. "But you have to follow your gut on this. Don't worry about me."

I spent the rest of the night thinking about the proposition. There was a lot to consider. I'd be dropping out of college to become a full-time slave to a man I'd spent all of two minutes talking to. But I had been floundering in college, not sure what direction to take. And the thought of serving Mr. Anders made me wet and swollen and restless. I touched myself long into the night, even though I wasn't allowed to come without Daddy's permission.

First thing in the morning, I went to Daddy and told him to close the deal.

At Mr. Anders instructions, I arrived on his front steps at noon that day, wearing only the lace cover-up, without even a bikini under it.

A butler opened the door. That was decadent, even for this neighborhood. He was about Mr. Anders' age, lanky and muscular with sandy hair and green-blue eyes. Those eyes roved my body. He licked his lips when he saw my dark nipples and lower triangle through the lace.

"I'm here to see Mr. Anders," I said quickly, worried that my chastity might not survive that long.

"Of course. You must be Lacey. I'm Jack. Come in."

He led me through a foyer of cold marble and red velvet into the heart of the house. At Jack's instruction, I entered a sumptuous master bedroom. The colors were black and red, the textures silk and satin. The black bedspread was scattered with velvety red rose petals.

"Kneel and await the Master," Jack ordered, indicating a small velvet cushion in the center of the room.

I shivered with pleasure and anticipation as I knelt on the cushion. My pussy began to drip, and I rubbed it in a fever. I suspected Mr. Anders would tease me by withholding orgasm just like Daddy, and I wanted a chance to come before I was told not to.

I put my pinky-finger, the only one that would fit without hurting, up inside my pussy, and strummed my clit hard with my other hand. I was building nicely toward an orgasm when the door was thrust open.

"Halt," Mr. Anders said, his dark blue eyes burning with anger. I stopped my motions and withdrew my hands immediately.

"What were you told, Lacey?" He carried a rose in his hand. The stem was still covered with thorns. He wore only silk boxers and a silk robe that was open in the front, revealing his strong pecs and hard stomach.

"Kneel and wait, Master," I answered meekly, hanging my head.

"That's right. And why did you disobey?"

"Jack didn't say not to touch myself," I pouted.

"Wrong answer." Mr. Anders stepped forward, gripped my lace cover-up, and ripped it off my body. He tore a strip of lace hem off and tied it around my neck to form a snug collar with a bow at the nape of my neck.

Gripping the collar, he pushed down my shoulders so my face was thrust into the floor. Then he knelt beside me and struck my ass hard with the thorny stem of the rose.

I screamed at the blow. The pain was not sustained, but it was sharp. The thorns biting into my flesh sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through my sodden pussy.

"Kneeling here waiting for you turned me on so much I had to touch myself," I babbled hurriedly. "I'm sorry, Master, it won't happen again!"

"I doubt it," he said, amused. "But that was the right answer."

He released the collar, then gripped my raven locks in his fist and pulled me back to an upright kneeling position. Using the rose like a baton he urged my legs apart until I straddled the cushion. He bade me clasp my hands behind me.

My breasts and sex thrust out, exposed.

He ran the petals of the rose gently over the folds of my soft, shaved vulva. "Here's how it works, Lacey. When you're bad, you get the thorns. When you're good, you get the petals."

I shuddered with pleasure at the delicate touch. I wanted to press down and grind my pussy into the rose and into his hand, to increase the sensation, but with effort, I held myself deliberately still.

With his free hand, he pulled his cock out of his boxers and began to stroke it. My eyes followed the motion and locked on his groin, mesmerized by his giant member.

I was terrified. My little virgin pussy was so small and tight, just sticking a finger up there hurt. How was that whole huge cock going to fit inside me?

He stood up abruptly. I reeled with disappointment as the petals of the rose pulled away from my pussy. The stem dangled in his hand, a threat and a promise. He pushed his cock downward into my face.

"Your Daddy told me you know how to please a man," Mr. Anders said. "Show me what you've learned."

Relieved that I wouldn't have to try to fit him inside my pussy yet, and confident in my cock sucking skills, I grasped his hard shaft in both hands and wet my lips. I made a little "O" with my mouth, keeping the entrance tight and moist so it would feel just like pushing into a tight wet pussy. I teased the tip of his cock a few times, pushing it through the "O" and back out. He groaned with pleasure.

"Mr. Petersen didn't lie. That is very good, Lacey. But how deep can you go?"

"So deep," I breathed between mouthfuls. I'd practiced taking Daddy deep into my throat. But could I fit all of Mr. Anders? He was even bigger than Daddy.

I leaned forward and opened wider, letting Mr. Anders' thick, meaty cock slide all the way down my throat, until his balls were against my chin. I held him there until I had to breathe and then I slid him out, panting and gasping for air, eyes watering.

"Good girl," he whispered. His expression was pure rapture.

As I took him into my throat again and again, he reached down with the long stem rose and traced the petals over my nipples, then over my sex, rewarding me for my good work on his cock with pleasure of my own.

I thought he would come in my throat, but instead he pulled back after only a little pre-come dribbled out.

"That was very good, Lacey," he praised me. "I'm really going to enjoy playing with you."

"Yes, Master," I cooed.

Without warning, he struck my breasts with the thorny stem. Pain shocked through my skin and a jolt of pleasure ran from my nipples down to my clit.

Startled, I covered my breasts and looked up in shock. "But I was good, Master!"

"Yes. This is your next lesson. Even when you are good, I may punish you because it pleases me to do so. You exist for my pleasure, now."

"Yes, Master."

"Also, you do not cover any part of yourself unless I give you permission. Put your hands behind your back again."

"Yes, Master."

A knock sounded on the door, and Mr. Anders said, "Come."

Jack entered bearing a tray. "Ah, lunch," Mr. Anders said. He went to a small table by the window, where Jack placed the covered tray. While Jack uncovered the meal and arranged it on the table, he stole frequent glances in my direction.

Mr. Anders hadn't said I could move, so I remained kneeling, completely bare. I fought the urge to cover my breasts and put a hand over my bare, spread pussy. Jack made no effort to hide his ogling.

As he began to eat his soup, Mr. Anders saw Jack watching me and said, "Isn't she lovely, Jack? Go ahead and touch her. Hands only, and keep your cock put away, I haven't broken her in quite yet."

"Thank you, Sir," Jack said. He finished carving Mr. Anders' roast, then came straight over. Nervous as I was, I noticed he stood over me in such a way that Mr. Anders had a full view of us.

His big hands were smooth and square. He touched my nipples first, then held the weight of my breasts in his palms. He pinched my nipples and tugged them outward. I looked away in shame the whole time, unwilling to admit the pleasurable sensations his touch aroused in me.

Then he knelt before me and reached for my pussy. He pushed apart my legs so my slit gaped even wider over the cushion. There was a wet spot on the cushion where I had dripped onto it while sucking Mr. Anders' cock.

Jack touched the wet velvet, then lifted his finger and brushed the lips of my pussy. His fingers explored my folds. I felt a flush creep up my throat. He traced my slit with one finger, then plunged it inside me.

I gasped. His big finger was agony in my tight little pussy, but at the same time sent a wave of exciting sensations rippling through my whole body.

"She's very tight even for a virgin, Sir."

"Yes, Jack. I think she's going to be the tightest fuck I've ever had."

Hearing them talk about me like I wasn't even there increased the pleasure caused by Jack's finger, now sliding in and out of my pussy.

"Please Master," I begged, thrusting to meet the finger. "Please, can I come?"

Mr. Anders chuckled. "Absolutely not, Lacey. Your next orgasm will be on my cock, while I am shooting cum into your newly popped cherry. Jack."

Jack looked disappointed as he took Mr. Anders unspoken command and withdrew his finger. He pushed it inside my mouth, and I tasted my own juices. I suckled at it hungrily.

"I'd like you to belt her, Jack," Mr. Anders said casually.

I trembled with fear. Was I about to be hit with a belt? But Jack walked over to a nearby closet and returned holding a strange contraption: a red leather belt with various smaller satin straps. I held still while he buckled it around my waist and put the straps into place. When he was finished, the lower straps held one vibrator against my nether rosebud, and a second against my clit. Tiny locks on the straps and the belt ensured I couldn't remove the device myself, and satin-covered hard panels prevented me from giving myself release with my fingers.

"What a lovely prize, Sir," Jack said approvingly, standing. "If you ever need me to service her, please don't hesitate."

"I'll keep it in mind," Mr. Anders said, amused.

Jack gave him the keys and a small remote and left. I looked desperately toward Mr. Anders, hoping he would pick up where Jack's fingers left off. Instead, he turned the vibrators on low and ignored me, slowly eating his lunch. I knelt there naked and aroused, tormented by the vibes, waiting for him to remember I existed.

I itched to squirm or shift or touch myself, but I recalled the sting of the thorns and remained still.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Anders wiped his face with the napkin, called for Jack to take away the dishes. Finally, he stood before me, and I hoped I'd soon get some relief . . . even if that relief involved his giant cock penetrating my tiny virgin pussy.

"How do you like my device, Lacey?" He pressed buttons on the remote, and the intensity of the vibrations increased, along with my arousal.

"I love it, Master," I whimpered.

"My company, Lingham Industries, designed this. A chastity belt with the added bonus of tormenting your protected little cunt. I was going to take you today, but since you touched yourself without permission, I'm going to make you wear this for a few days first."

My spirit crashed.

NO!

I cried inwardly, as my hopes were dashed, but out loud I whispered, "Yes, Master."

"In the meanwhile, I'll need you to make yourself useful. My receptionist just quit. When I saw you by the pool, I pictured you at my front desk, wearing nothing but lace."

"Yes, Master."