The young girl, barely 18, sat quietly in front of her father, fighting back a desperate urge to fidget. She knew how he despised any sign of such weakness in her. The tight corset pressing into her ribs and the huge skirts of her first 'grown up' evening gown were proving almost too much for the lessons in decorum to curb those hated urges however.
Nervously, she bit into her bottom lip - the soft shale pink of the full flesh darkening with the punishment. Her father noted the movement, his grim expression hardening for a moment.
"Giselle - do not fidget. You know that I cannot abide that. There, better. You must be the absolute picture of decorum young lady. I'll not have shame on this house because you cannot control your alley urges. Now, stand and let me inspect you. This ball is very important - I shouldn't have to remind you yet again."
He folded his hands on the desk before him and waited none too patiently for his young daughter, on the verge of her society debut, to stand for inspection. He carefully studied the upswept reddish gold hair - a scandal that would cause - and the ice pale blue eyes in the creamy perfection of her face. Thank God there were no freckles at least.
The sheer gold lace covering the white shantung over the tight bodice showed her young breasts off to perfection - they looked almost ready to fall out of the fashionable yet severely low cut gown. He could not imagine what possessed her chaperone to approve such a gown for her debut.
She looked more like a whore than a daughter of the Duke of Falconsridge. The wide skirt, of the same white silk covered with the incredibly sheer gold overlay, now embroidered with golden threads in the design of the fleur de lis at the him, reached to the floor so that her trim ankles and small feet did not show. Thank heavens. Another inch of that pale skin and there would be the worst scandal. She looked perfect. He had to make sure that she stayed that way.
"Come here child. I must remind you of how you will behave this evening. Over the desk NOW!" The child trembled in fear. Not NOW! Please! Her escort would be here in MOMENTS! She knew better than to disobey however so she scuffled quickly to lay herself over his desk, the corset digging painfully into her ribs, her breasts all but spilling over his desk.
He eyed the pale globes with a gleam of something.. not quite human... in his eyes for a moment. He lifted her skirts up and over her head until only her pale bottom appeared. She wore no drawers - he never allowed them in his house. He said they invited disease and she should allow her body to breathe naturally. Instead tiny lace garters held up sheer white stockings almost up to the delicate curves of her pale ass.
"Spread your legs girl. Do not test my patience!" He sharply slapped her bottom, leaving a red weal. She quickly spread her legs as far as they would go. Delftly he pushed a finger up into her dry pussy, feeling for the tissue of her hyman. It was still there, still intact, a prize no man would have until he paid her father dearly for the pleasure. He moved his hand then, digging his fingers into her ass, roughly stretching her.
"Have you had a bowel movement today girl?" He barked the question and she nodded her head yes, almost imperceptibly. She had no desire for one of his dreaded enemas. Still, she had no idea what was coming. "Speak child!" He barked at her.
She whimpered slightly at the dry digging in her ass, fingers shoved roughly deeper at his barked orders. "Y... ye.. Yes Father..." she managed. He pulled open a drawer and removed two objects. One appeared to be a jar. The other she couldnt see at all.
Her father continued to dig and push around in her ass, determined to catch her in a lie had she not had her movement for the day. Finally satisfied, he turned and opened the small jar. Dipping his fingers into it he pulled out a generous dollop of a minty smelling grease before digging again into her tight asshole.
