Lacy's Choice

Both Gretchen and Lacy are inspired by women I once knew and cared about, but this story is entirely fiction. I received a couple of comments on my Kristy stories, also here on Literotica, suggesting that the sex was too long coming, or a bit understated. Okay, that's me as an author. As a reader or viewer of adult entertainment, I prefer when a story is 95% story, and 5% sex. That's what I like to read, so that's what I write. I hope you enjoy my story!

Lacy's Choice

By Bobbie Kaye (Cutie)

When the doorbell rang, Lacy had to greet the pizza delivery guy wearing nothing but her panties. His nametag identified him as "Larry," and he leered openly at the sight before him, obviously thrilled with his good fortune. Lacy found this encounter particularly humiliating, mostly because she knew that, to him, it would appear that she was doing this of her own free will. Earlier, when she'd changed in the department store, and flashed her panties in the shoe store, Gretchen was there, and it was at least somewhat obvious that she was being forced. But now she stood alone, holding a pizza box, with no way to let him know that this was not her idea. She'd paid with a large bill, and he was taking his sweet time counting out her change.

***

Lacy Taylor was Daddy's Little Girl. From the day she was born, Warren Taylor had spent as much time as he could with his daughter, his only child. As a successful businessman with several stores and factories located close by in the Minneapolis - St. Paul area, it had been difficult to find as much time as he would have liked, but he did the best that he could.

No matter how busy or hectic his life became, Lacy always remained a big part, if not the center, of his focus and attention. He was there when he could be, feeding her, changing her, bathing her, and playing with her. He watched with adoration and fascination as she grew, and he raised her as any fine gentleman would. His goal was that she would one day be a proper young lady, married into another upstanding family, always with the hope that she would find a love that brought her happiness and joy. And, as his only child, he groomed her to take over his businesses some day.

His love, hard work and devotion had paid off. He had encouraged her to study hard in school, and to find activities she enjoyed. He'd always hoped she would take an interest in things appropriate to a young lady, such as ballroom dancing. But when he realized she preferred reading to dancing, this is what he encouraged his daughter to pursue.

For her part, Lacy always tried her best to fulfill her Daddy's expectations. She did well in high school, and she'd graduated from the University of Minnesota with a degree in Business Administration. She knew her Daddy expected her to take control of his businesses one day, but not before she'd made her own way for a few years.

Lacy adored her Daddy. She knew that, other than a few old fashioned ideas, he was a very wise man. Now if he really believed she was still a virgin, well, he was being just a little too old fashioned. Lacy had lost her virginity when she was in college, and had slept with two other men since then, each a boyfriend for a few months. She was careful, however, always ensuring her partner used protection. She didn't want to get pregnant, and would never consider an abortion.

For an old-fashioned southern gentleman, born and raised in Arkansas before moving to Minnesota many years before, her Daddy had a lot of modern ideas. He didn't harbor any negative views towards people of other races; he held no prejudices in that area. He was far less open minded about homosexuality, it seemed, and often condemned anyone who didn't keep it in the closet where it belonged. Lacy had been influenced by this attitude as well, and while she didn't feel any particular hatred towards gays or lesbians, it still made her feel very uncomfortable to be around them.

Lacy was now twenty-five years old, and working as the office manager for the Minneapolis headquarters of an Internet-based retail store. Within a couple of years, she had reason to believe she would be promoted to operations manager. She had her own apartment, a two year old Toyota Camry, a few thousand dollars in the bank, and she didn't owe a nickel on either of her credit cards. Lacy was well on her way to fulfilling her Daddy's dream.

***

Lacy spent much of her life trying to prove herself worthy of her Daddy's love, and moreover, his respect. She was meticulous about doing things right, so she was shocked when she opened the envelope that Friday evening, only to discover that her auto insurance policy had been cancelled! She remembered getting the bill in the mail several weeks ago. She'd set it aside and... oh God, she forgot to pay it! And the notice of pending cancellation that must have followed, what had happened to that? What would Daddy say?

She put it out of her mind for a while. She'd just be extra careful the next couple of days, and take care of the matter first thing Monday morning. Lacy had never had an accident, not even a parking ticket. She was an excellent driver; after all, her Daddy had taught her! Nothing was going to happen between Friday night and Monday morning.

She passed a lonely Friday evening watching a couple of old romantic comedies on cable TV. That night in bed, the car insurance issue forgotten, she awoke abruptly from a very pleasant dream. She was the character in one of those romances, and the leading man was kissing her! The desire to which she had awakened always left her feeling both excited, and confused.

She had heard that some women would take pleasure from touching themselves. But she knew that doing so was wrong. That's what her Daddy had always told her. Not that she hadn't ever tried to do it, but she was always riddled with guilt after, and it had never proven all that pleasurable, anyway. So she crawled out of bed and into a cold shower. Once she'd calmed down, Lacy returned to bed. But the remainder of the night found her tossing and turning, unable to return to the deep sleep she'd so enjoyed earlier.

Dragging herself out of bed Saturday morning, Lacy mentally reviewed her plans for the day. First up was a trip to the supermarket for a good choice of the freshest produce. Then the drycleaners, and back home to clean the bathroom. Saturday night was going to be a pizza and a couple of DVDs. Well, nobody had ever said Lacy's life was particularly exciting.

As she headed down East Lake Street, Lacy recalled the new Katy Perry CD she'd purchased. She retrieved it from the glove box and began peeling off the cellophane. As careful a driver as she always was, Lacy completely missed the fact that the light ahead was red, and that there was a car just in front of her, waiting at that light. She slammed on the brakes at the last second, but not soon enough to avoid a jarring collision with the other vehicle.

Shaken up, but not hurt, Lacy staggered out of the car to meet the other driver. It was a woman, and it took her a little longer to get out. When she did, she was holding her neck, rubbing it just a little.

Her Daddy had always told her that if you're ever involved in an accident, you never admit fault. And Lacy almost always did what her Daddy said. But in the confusion of the moment, all she could manage was "Oh, I'm so sorry! It was all my fault! Are you all right?"

The other woman appeared dazed, but surprisingly enough didn't seem angry. "Let's pull into that parking lot over there and exchange information."

Both cars started without a problem, and they slowly steered into the nearly empty lot. "Are you hurt?" Lacy asked, genuinely concerned.

"I think I'm all right," the woman said. "Why don't you give me your insurance info, and I'll get mine."

At that moment, a sick feeling washed over Lacy. Her policy had been cancelled! She had no insurance! Tears filled her eyes, and she began to shake. The other woman gave her an inquisitive stare, and Lacy told her the truth.

"Wow," said the woman. "No insurance. How are you going to pay for my damages? You admitted it was your fault. I was just sitting at the light, and you slammed into me!"

"It was my fault! I'm so sorry. I'll pay your damages. I have some money."

"I really think we need to get the police involved."

"NO!" exclaimed Lacy. "Please, no police!"

"Why not?" smiled the other woman. "Are you a wanted criminal or something?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Lacy just then noticed something about the woman. She was stunning! Long, shiny brown hair, big bright eyes, high cheekbones, perfect teeth gleaming white behind full, red lips. She must be a model or an actress or something, Lacy thought. Ordinary women just aren't that beautiful.

"Then why are you so afraid of me calling the police?"

"My Daddy," Lacy admitted quietly.

"Your Daddy?" the woman giggled.

"If he finds out I let my insurance policy lapse, he'll be furious with me!"

"How old are you, sixteen?"

"I'm twenty-five, actually." Lacy was nervous, yet she also wanted to be polite. "I'm sorry, my name's Lacy."

"I'm Gretchen. So, what do you propose? You have no insurance, and you don't want the police involved. Do you have enough money to repair my car? And yours?"

"I have some money, but..."

"Not enough, right?"

Lacy looked at her feet, shaking her head.

"I think I'd better call the police, at least get the accident on the record."

"No, please! Please don't call the police! I'll do anything you want!"

Gretchen smiled as the wheels slowly began to turn in her head. "Anything? You don't really mean that, and you know it."

"Yes, anything! I'll do absolutely anything you ask me to, I swear! I... I'll clean your house, I'll do your laundry..."

"You're really scared, aren't you?"

"Please. Really, I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

"Wait here a minute," Gretchen said, and walked over to her car. She popped the trunk and pulled out her laptop. "Come on, let's get some breakfast, okay? Your treat."

"Sure," Lacy said, hoping they could work something out. "Anything you want, it's on me!" They crossed the street and went into the Denny's Restaurant. They found a secluded booth in the corner, and while Gretchen's computer booted up, they placed their order with the seemingly disinterested waitress.

"I work as a paralegal," explained Gretchen, "and I have every kind of contract imaginable in here. I'll draw up something legally binding, something we can both agree to. There's a quick print shop a couple of doors down. I'll print the contract, we'll both sign it, and you won't have to worry about your Daddy finding out you had no insurance." Lacy was so relieved that she didn't notice the mischievous grin flashing across Gretchen's face. "As long as you live up to the letter of the contract, that is," she added.

Essentially, the contract stated that Lacy Taylor agreed to be Gretchen Andrews' personal servant from nine o'clock Saturday morning until nine o'clock Saturday evening, and again on Sunday, every weekend, until the repairs on Gretchen's care were fully paid for. Lacy would be compensated at the rate of five hundred dollars per weekend. She would be permitted adequate time for meals, hygiene, and other necessities, but at Gretchen's discretion. Lacy would be expected to fulfill any task assigned her, completely, without question, and to the best of her ability. Failure or refusal to complete any assignment, exactly as directed, would lead to forfeiture of all prior earnings, the accident would be reported to the police, and would be reported to Lacy's father, as well.

Verbally, Gretchen explained that some of the tasks might seem objectionable, even downright unpleasant. Lacy envisioned having to clean a dirty bathroom, scrub the grease from Gretchen's stove, something along those lines. What Gretchen actually had in mind was far beyond anything Lacy had ever in her life even conceived.

***

First thing Monday morning, Lacy made sure her auto insurance policy was reinstated. She didn't mention the accident, though. She figured that, as long as she wasn't filing a claim, and the accident wasn't being reported to the police, she had no need to bring it up. She then took her own car to the body shop, and learned that the repairs were going to set her back over thirty-five hundred dollars. That would almost completely empty her savings. But she had to take care of it. She couldn't let Daddy know she'd been in an accident.

She wasn't too worried about being able to fulfill Gretchen's demands, although she realized she'd be working all weekend, every weekend, for a couple of months. And Gretchen had borrowed her cell phone long enough to connect it to her laptop and download Lacy's entire address book. And that address book had over a hundred names, every relative, friend, and close workmate she had, along with phone numbers, home addresses, emails, everything. She couldn't imagine why Gretchen wanted that, but she'd been in no position to argue.

So Lacy passed the week nervously, driving a rented car, but otherwise leading her normal life. Saturday morning came soon enough, and Lacy was knocking at the door to Gretchen's apartment about five minutes before nine. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt over a plain white bra and panty set, along with tennis shoes. Her curly brown hair was gathered in a simple ponytail, and she wore no makeup.

Gretchen opened the door with a smile, inviting her new servant in. She gave Lacy a little kiss on the cheek, which came as something of a surprise, but actually put her a little at ease. They stepped into Gretchen's living room.

"Interesting outfit," said Gretchen. "But entirely unacceptable."

"Pardon me?" said Lacy.

"Your outfit," stressed Gretchen. "You are excused this time, of course. I hadn't given you any instructions."

"Um... I'm sorry, Gretchen. Please tell me how I should dress in the future."

"Size six, right?" asked Gretchen, looking her up and down.

"That's right. Why?"

"Same as me. That's perfect. I'll be right back. I have just the thing."

Lacy's surprise was obvious on her face. "Okay."

"Now get undressed," Gretchen said as she left the room.

Lacy stood uncertainly. She must have misunderstood. It sounded like Gretchen had told her to get undressed! But that didn't make any sense.

When Gretchen returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a blue skirt and a matching tube top, it was obvious that Lacy had not yet undressed. Gretchen simply pulled her cell phone from her pocket, and began searching through her address book as Lacy watched her nervously.

"Hmm... Taylor... Warren..."

"What are you doing?" asked Lacy, as a wave of panic swept through her.

"I can't believe you're violating the terms of our contract so soon," said Gretchen, her finger poised to hit the speed dial button to Lacy's father.

"What did I do? I haven't violated the contract!"

"When I left the room, I told you to get undressed. The contract states clearly that you are to fulfill any task assigned. I told you to get undressed, and you didn't do as I said. The contract has been violated." Gretchen shook her head. "You didn't last five minutes."

"No, wait!" exclaimed Lacy. "I thought I'd misunderstood you! But why do you want me to get undressed?"

Gretchen again reached for the speed dial, saying simply "Completely and without question."

"Okay, okay, I'll get undressed!" Lacy couldn't believe she'd just said that, but as Gretchen stood there, her finger suspended over the speed dial button, Lacy began to pull the sweatshirt over her head.

Lacy had a great body. Her breasts were full, a little larger than average. She had a narrow waist and round, shapely hips. Her smooth skin was a natural golden brown, though she rarely spent time trying to tan. But she was easily embarrassed, and that embarrassment grew as she dropped her sweatshirt and reached to unfasten her jeans. She hesitated just a second, and Gretchen simply smiled and held up her cell phone.

Closing her eyes, Lacy lowered her jeans. She'd forgotten to remove her shoes, so with her jeans down to her knees, she bent over and untied them. She kicked them off and stepped out of the jeans. She stood upright, one hand over the front of her bra, the other trying to shield her panties. Gretchen stared with great interest at Lacy, standing there in nothing but her undies, her face hot with humiliation.

"Hands to your sides, Lacy," Gretchen commanded, and she obeyed. She was unaccustomed to such obvious scrutiny of her nearly naked form, and was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Gretchen could see this, and she was curious why.

"Don't you like your body, Lacy?" she asked.

"I... um... I'm just... very shy, that's all," Lacy replied.

"Why are you shy? You have a great body."

Lacy just shook her head nervously. She couldn't imagine where Gretchen was going with this, but she was in no position to object.

"You seem very uncomfortable, Lacy. You want to tell me why?"

Lacy shook her head again, and Gretchen waited for an explanation. Finally, Lacy said "When I was in middle school, we all had to dress for gym in a common area." She took a deep breath. "My breasts developed very early. When I was thirteen, I looked like I was about twenty."

"I see," said Gretchen, paying careful attention.

"The girls used to tease me," Lacy continued. "They called me names. They told me I was destined to be a prostitute. It was horrible."

Gretchen felt a stirring deep inside. She knew she was going to have fun with this girl! "What's the worst thing they ever did to you, Lacy?"

"Oh God, I hate thinking about it." A deep breath. "A bunch of seniors grabbed me out of the shower one time. They dragged me to the emergency exit, and told me they were going to throw me outside naked. It was between classes, and I knew the walkways would be jammed. I begged them not to do it."

Gretchen was growing more excited. She could feel the dampness between her legs. "And did they?"

"No, one of them took pity on me, and convinced the others to let me go. They made me promise not to say a word, or they do it for real, and worse." Lacy had tears in her eyes. "You're the first person I've ever told."

Gretchen then handed Lacy the skirt and the tube top. "Put these on."

Lacy gladly stepped into the skirt, grateful for some coverage. The skirt was considerably shorter than what she was used to wearing, but it beat standing there in her underwear. As she reached for the tube top, Gretchen pulled it away. "You can't wear a tube top with a bra with straps." Lacy stared at her. "Take the bra off."

Lacy stared a little longer, until Gretchen raised her cell phone. Recognizing the unspoken threat, she turned around and reached behind her back to release the hooks.

"Stop!" ordered Gretchen, and Lacy stopped. "Turn and face me. Do not cover your breasts when you remove your bra. Is this quite clear?"

Lacy nodded slightly, turned around, and proceeded to unclasp her bra. After only a moment's hesitation, she allowed the bra to fall to the floor. It took every ounce of willpower not to cover her generous breasts. But she did what she was told, keeping her hands to her sides. She couldn't control her rapid breathing, however, or her pounding heart.

Gretchen inspected Lacy's breasts very closely. She didn't touch them; there was plenty of time for that later. She just made some mental observations, among these the fact that Lacy's nipples were erect. It wasn't cold in Gretchen's apartment, so she figured that Lacy must be finding some degree of arousal in what was happening to her. But did she even realize this about herself? Time would tell.

Gretchen allowed her to put on the tube top, which was a little tight around her full breasts, and her nipples were very visible bumps. Lacy's face was just as red as it had been earlier, but her breathing and heartbeat were slowing down a little. She was still expecting to be told to clean Gretchen's bathroom, when Gretchen said "Put your shoes on, we're going for a drive!"