Daddy's Dirty Lil' Helper

The Princess Life

I’m tingling with excitement as we approach the front door of my house.

As usual, there’s also a touch of guilt, but not too much. I mean, with a name that stupid, this bitch deserves everything that’s coming to her.

“Wow, you really have a nice house,” says Saige, her eyes wide as she takes in the three-story mansion my daddy paid an arm and a leg for.

“Wait until you check out the pool,” I say with a little giggle.

I use my keys to let us in, and then I lead her into the foyer. My daddy always says you never get a second chance to make a good first impression, and the entranceway never fails to impress with its twin curving staircases leading up to the second floor and the immense chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling far above our heads.

“Woah,” says Saige. “Gosh, I’ve never been in a place this fancy. I’m starting to feel a little underdressed.”

“Nah, you look perfect,” I say.

And she does, at least in the sense of how my daddy likes ’em. For starters, she’s got on a crop top that makes it abundantly clear that she isn’t wearing a bra underneath. And then she’s wearing a short skirt that’s the universal symbol for being a cheap slut. Best of all, she has dyed blonde hair, which is his favorite.

“Really?” says Saige, too stupid to know she’s walked right into my little trap. “So, what does your dad do? He must be some kind of important businessman or something, huh?”

“Something like that,” I say with a little snicker. “He’s probably in his office. You wait here while I go check.”

“Oh, what? No, that’s not necessary,” says Saige.

“Sure it is,” I say with a sly grin. “My daddy always likes to meet my friends. He’s a real gentleman in that sense, you could say.”

“Well, alright then. Gosh!” says Saige, her eyes wide as she drinks in all the opulence specifically to wow dumb rubes like her.

As quick as a wink, I make my way down the hallway and then rap on my daddy’s office three times in quick succession so he’ll know it’s me. I then ease open the oak-paneled door to see him sitting at his desk, a look of deep concentration on his handsome face.

“Hey, Daddy,” I say, my pulse racing a bit. “I brought home a new one. I think you’ll really like her.”

“Yeah, I saw,” says my daddy, gesturing in the direction of the bank of security monitors in his office.

“You want her details?” I say, feeling a bit nervous that he’s not as excited as I anticipated. “Or maybe later, if you’re busy.”

“No, no, go ahead,” says my daddy, slamming a leather-bound ledger closed with a quick frown.

“Okay, her name is Saige,” I quickly recite. “No piercings, but she’s got three tattoos: a rose on her left arm, a dolphin on her ankle, and a butterfly on her back just above her waist.”

“Typical,” says my daddy with a snort of derision.

“She’s five feet six, weighs around 110 pounds,” I say. “No hard drug use, but she loves to get wasted on weed and alcohol, especially on the weekends. Her body count is at least seven, although she can’t be sure because sometimes she passes out.”

“Any chicks? Or is she strictly into dicks?” says my daddy.

“No girls, no, as far as I know,” I say.

“Hmm,” says my daddy, pausing for a long moment. “All right, fine. I guess I could use a little refreshment to clear my head. This Valenciano case is driving me up the wall.”

“Okay,” I say, trembling with excitement a bit now that I know the game is afoot. “How do you want to do this? Take her to the swimming pool or maybe...”

“Whatever, I don’t care,” says my daddy. “I’ve got some phone calls to make, so it’ll be an hour or so. Just take her up to your room and make sure she's primed.”

“Okay, Daddy,” I say with a little curtsy.

I stand there, waiting to see if he has nothing else to say to me, but his attention is back on that ledger on his desk. I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed, but I understand his work has him distracted. Maybe after he dispatches Saige, he’ll be in a better mood.

“All righty,” I say, plastering a big grin on my face as I rejoin Saige in the lobby. “My dad’s a bit busy at the moment, but he told me to tell you that you’re a welcome guest and to make yourself feel right at home.”

“Wow, that’s so nice,” says Saige.

It’s pretty obvious that she’s not used to being treated with this much hospitality and generosity, but I’m starting to think maybe there’s a good reason for that. Why put out your best silverware and glasses for cheap trash? Save that shit for people who deserve it, you know what I mean?

“Come on upstairs,” I say. “Let me show you my room.”

I intentionally let her get ahead of me on the staircase so I can take a quick peek up her skirt. Sure enough, she’s wearing the kind of panties you can find on sale at Wal-Mart just a few aisles over from where they keep the Miracle-Whip and hot dogs.

“Woah, this is like something out of a fairytale,” gushes Saige when she gets a glimpse of my bedroom.

Well, I still call it my bedroom even though I haven’t really slept in there since I was about 7 or 8 years old. It’s all done up in pinks and purples, and there’s a large mirror and dresser off to one side framed in colorful glitter. There’s also about a hundred stuffed animals on the bed, making it obvious to anyone with a brain that this is a child’s room.

“You like it?” I say, unable to suppress a sneer as I watch her gawk at all the furnishings and decorations.

Doesn't she realize that no self-respecting young woman would ever be caught dead in such a bedroom?

“Yeah, wow, it’s all just so pretty Teagan,” says Saige, giving me a curious look. “I mean, I never would’ve guessed you lived in such a place.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” I say with a low chuckle. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“I’ll say!” says Saige. “Gosh, is there some place we could go to smoke? I’m dying for a cigarette.”

“Sure,” I say, unfastening and throwing back the shutters to reveal the balcony just beyond. “Just through here.”

“Woah, and your own balcony, too?” says Saige, following me outside. “You really are living the princess life.”

“Ha!” I say with a bitter laugh.

I fish a battered pack of Kools out of my shorts, and then we both spark up. I got rid of all the furniture on the balcony a long time ago, so we’re forced to lean against the brick retaining wall. Saige doesn’t say anything for a long moment, too busy checking out the view.

“Wow, when I met you, I really thought...” says Saige. “I dunno. I guess I figured...”

“That I’m trailer trash, just like you?” I say, the harsh smoke making me cough.

“Hey!” says Saige, frowning. “I meant, I never would’ve guessed you came from money.”

“I don’t,” I say, giving her a hard squint. “Everything you see here? This is all my dad’s shit. None of it belongs to me.”

“No, no, I know,” stutters Saige. “I just meant...”

“My daddy does his thing, and I do my thing,” I say. “Got it?”

“Sure, no, I understand. I didn’t mean to offend you, Teagan,” says Saige.

“No offense taken,” I say, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “So tell me. What would you do to get a taste of this life?”

“Huh?” says Saige.

“How far would you go to live in a house like this?” I say, studying her carefully.

“I... I don’t understand,” says Saige, squirming uncomfortably under my gaze.

“Would you suck a guy’s dick for a chance to ride in his Ferrari?” I say. “Or take it up the ass for the opportunity to spend a week on his yacht?”

“Teagan? Why are you asking me all these questions?” says Saige, her hand trembling a bit as she puffs on her cigarette.

“Hey, I’m just asking,” I say, giving her a shit-eating grin. “I saw you looking around, calculating what it would be like if you set up roost here. I’m just curious how badly you want a taste.”

“Um... I’m not some kind of whore or anything,” says Saige. “If that’s what you’re implying.”

“Are you sure?” I say, taking a step closer to her. “Because in my experience, everyone’s a whore if the price is right.”

“Well not me,” says Saige, folding her arms over her chest in a ridiculous display of trying to maintain some kind of dignity. “I may not have been raised in such a fancy neighborhood, but I’ve still got my standards.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” I say with a chuckle as I stub out my cigarette and send it sailing in a wide arc over the edge of the roof.

Hidey Hole

“Sorry about that,” says my daddy, putting on his #1 charming smile on his face as he enters the bedroom. “I didn’t mean to be inhospitable to our guest.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” I say, glancing over at Saige. “We understand you are busy.”

“Hi there,” says my daddy, extending his hand. “Saige, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” says Saige, her cheeks predictably pinkening.

“Well, Saige, welcome to my home,” says my daddy. “And my goodness, that’s such a pretty name.”

What can I say? My daddy knows exactly what he’s doing with his charm offensive. As the old saying goes, he could sell sand to an Arab or ice to an Eskimo. Once you know how the trick works, though, the whole thing is rather pathetic.

“Gosh, thanks,” says Saige, one hand involuntarily stealing up to touch her hair.

It’s no surprise whatsoever that she’s impressed by my daddy. Who wouldn’t be? On top of living in a gorgeous mansion, he’s a handsome, confident guy wearing a ten thousand dollar suit. He’s fit and active in a healthy way without being overly bulky, and his teeth are whiter than moonlight.

What Saige doesn’t know is just how much time he spends at the dentist to get his teeth to stay that white or that he’s wearing special shoes to make him seem taller. Still, though, the illusion works precisely because it’s based on a framework of truth. My daddy is genuinely an attractive man.

“Did Teagan here give you the tour?” says my daddy, glancing over at me and giving me the pre-arranged wink.

“Um, no, not really,” says Saige with a gulp, looking at me a bit nervously, but I just shrug it off. “But wow, this bedroom of hers is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” says my daddy, his smile faltering for just a split second. “Okay, well it would be my pleasure to give a lovely young lady such as yourself a tour of my humble abode. Right this way...”

I step back and pretend to be examining the curtains or some shit as my dad sweeps Saige out of the room. I know she’s a bit taken by surprise that I’m not joining them, but she’ll soon forget all about that as he runs through his spiel, starting with a trip around the swimming pool and pool house and ending up in the kitchen where there will just so happen to be a bottle of champagne nicely chilled inside the Sub-Zero fridge.

All I’ve got to do now is wait, so I light up another cigarette and step back onto the balcony.

Part of me is a little disgusted that he has to go through the charade at all. I mean, why not skip straight ahead to the good stuff? But I thought about it one time and realized that twenty to thirty minutes isn’t really all that much time to go from being a complete stranger to the man fucking your brains out.

I watch lots of movies in my spare time, so I know that hitting on strangers used to be a much more commonplace occurrence back when people weren’t glued to their phones or hiding out in their homes all the time. Maybe lots of guys were seducing chicks inside of half an hour back then, but I’m pretty sure it’s something of a speed record in the modern era.

Either way, I’ve got plenty of time to get to my hidey hole, the place I actually sleep every night instead of that awful princess bedroom that I bring all the targets to.

At first, I used to enjoy cracking open the door to my dad’s room and watching him work, but then he got angry about it for some reason, saying it wasn’t ethical.

Fuck that! What does he know about being ethical? So I went ahead and installed a couple of secret surveillance cameras, and the feeds from those cameras connect to some monitors in my hidey hole just off the back stairs. It’s nice and secure with a heavy-duty lock, but there’s not much ventilation, which is why I don’t smoke in there.

I prop up some pillows and get myself comfortable as I wait for the main event to begin. Sometimes, I’ll bring up a bottle of gin to sip on, but if I drink too much, I get sleepy, so it’s just black tea for me today.

I kick off my shoes and socks and then hike up my skirt, which I notice has a little stain on the hem. I really don’t know how that could’ve happened, so I start to get pretty annoyed, but I don’t want to ruin the mood so I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths.

As per my custom, I wait until I can see my daddy on the monitor before I take off my panties. He’s leading Saige by the arm, and while it’s hard to make out her face, I can see that she’s following him quite willingly. Of course she is.

I don’t know what wild promises he’s making to her, but there’s no way a girl like her can turn down a chance to spend some alone time with a wealthy and powerful man like my daddy.

I watch as he pours each of them some champagne, and I slide one finger down between my legs and start stroking myself as they chit-chat for a bit. There’s no audio feed, which is something I need to rectify in the future, but that’s okay. I’ve heard my daddy’s grunts enough times to play the soundtrack in my head.

Sure enough, it isn’t long before he’s leaning in to kiss the little slut. Sometimes, it takes a second glass of champagne before they get loose enough to get naked, but this bitch is hot to trot right out of the gate, taking off her own top before straddling my daddy’s lap.

It always amuses me how some girls try to play a more dominant role while others seem to prefer to be passively tossed this way and that. Saige looks like a stripper giving a two-dollar lapdance as she grinds her crotch against my daddy.

I’m plenty wet already, but my inner fire never gets raging until my daddy takes off his clothes, so I’m practically shouting at the monitor for him to hurry up.

At long last, he finally pushes her off of him, stands up, and begins undressing.

Some Kind of Monster

Now there’s a hot gusher going on downstairs as the show gets going in earnest.

I dip one exploratory finger into my pussy even as my other fingers continue stroking my clit when I see my daddy’s at full mast, his penis bobbing around like a blind man’s cane as he lowers Saige onto his shaft.

I let out a little groan as my daddy begins fucking her, Saige’s soft titties bouncing this way and that as she rides his meat pole. For some reason, the passive girls usually prefer to start with a blowjob while the active ones go straight for the pussy pounding, although that might be partially my daddy’s doing, I’m not quite sure.

As many times as I’ve watched him have sex, sometimes I get the feeling that he’s holding back on me a little, and that has me twitching somewhere deep inside.

After an almost interminable period of her riding him like a bucking bronco, my daddy finally takes the initiative. I let out a little squeal of pleasure as he pivots to having Saige stand against the wall while he penetrates her from behind.

It’s a rare treat to see him fuck someone while on his feet like that, so I lean forward to get a better look. I can feel a powerful climax begin to build inside of me as I watch his perfectly sculpted buttocks tense and flex with every stroke, and Saige’s open mouth tells me he’s really pounding her hard.

I can almost feel myself being filled up and stretched out as my daddy grabs her hips for better leverage, pushing her back down until she’s almost bent over double. Her hands are slipping a bit against the wall, and those titties of her are swaying back and forth nicely as my dad gives her a pounding to remember.

My thighs clamp against my hand as my first orgasm hits, and I’m gasping for breath as I watch him relentlessly piston back and forth inside that little slut.

I quickly rub two or three more out in quick succession, nearly biting my tongue by accident as convulsions wash over me. My daddy’s really in fine form today, and I know that the recording of this particular session is going to go straight into my collection of favorite moments.

Yet I hold off on stimulating myself too much as I wait to see what my daddy is going to do for the grand finale.

For all his prowess as a sex machine, he’s a bit finicky when it comes to his own release, probably my only criticism of his technique. I tried to tell him once that giving into his own passion the same way his partners did was the ultimate ingredient to hot sex, but he got really mad about it and never wanted to discuss it again.

To keep myself from getting too flustered, I ease off on the clit play for a minute and begin softly stroking the perimeter of my butthole. It kind of tickles a bit even as it awakens a fresh hunger inside of me, and I ride that exquisite edge until, at long last, my dad steps back from Saige, revealing his cock in sharp detail on the monitor.

I’m more than a little disappointed when he pushes her onto the bed and then starts fucking her missionary style, but the rules are the rules, so I speed up my fingers until I can feel my insides tightening once again.

I get the timing just about perfectly, blasting off a really good one at the same time my dad jerks back and then sprays a hot load of cum onto Saige’s slightly flabby belly.

The image on the monitor isn’t clear enough to see the drops land, but I can tell by the fierce grin on his face that he’s successfully blown his load.

Saige, for her part, seems almost amused as she glances down at her torso, which is now slightly luminescent in the grainy image onscreen. Is she upset that my daddy isn’t trying to throw a baby up inside of her? Or is she just used to fucking guys too stupid to know when to pull out?

Either way, fun time is over for everyone. I pat my pussy and tell her she’s a good girl and that she’ll get some real satisfaction soon enough, even though that’s probably a lie. I’m feeling pretty juiced after ripping off so many orgasms, but there’s the usual underlying sense of being unfulfilled, which I hate.

I tried to talk to a counselor about it once, but she acted like I was some kind of monster when I told her that I’ll never find a guy who is sexier than my own daddy.

What the hell did that bitch know? She’d never met my daddy or seen the way he expertly wields that massive cock of his. But they probably taught her in school that the shit I was describing was some kind of mental disorder or whatever.

Obviously, I never brought the subject up ever again, not with her and not with anyone. No one understands the life I live, and I’m fine with that. Most people go through their boring, humdrum lives without having the first clue of what’s really going on, and it’s only people like my daddy and I that can see reality with clear eyes.

I’ve got a small plastic basin and a Thermos with warm water ready to go, so it doesn’t take long at all before I’m all cleaned up.

One thing they don’t teach you in school but really should is the importance of keeping your pussy clean, especially after sex, even if it’s the solo kind. Failure to maintain proper hygiene is why so many sluts get yeast infections, and I’m proud to say I’ve never had one.

I’m fully dressed and back on the balcony outside my pretend bedroom, smoking a cigarette, when Saige stumbles her way outside to join me. I suppress a laugh when I see she’s buttoned up her jeans the wrong way, giving me a peak at the cheap panties she’s wearing underneath.

“Hey, um, sorry about that,” says Saige, using her fingers to straighten out a wayward section of her hair. “Your house is really big, and, uh, your dad wanted to give me the full tour.”

“No problem,” I say, quite truthfully, as I give her a thorough visual examination.

I’m always curious to see if I can detect a trace of post-coital glow on the chicks my dad fucks, but I almost never do. I’m pretty convinced that it’s just some bullshit that romance authors add to their stories to make it seem like good sex is some kind of big, transformative event. In reality, most girls just look disheveled like they just woke up from a nap.

“Hey, um, listen. I’ve got to go,” says Saige. “I’ve got a lot of homework to do, and my mom needs me to get dinner going since she’s got to work a late shift.”

“No problem,” I say, plastering a big, fake smile on my face.

“Cool,” says Saige, looking immensely relieved. “But, um, I’d love to come by another time and hang out.”

“Nah,” I say, stubbing out my cigarette, enjoying the look of confusion on her stupid face.

“Oh, um, I just thought...” stammers Saige.

“What you thought is my daddy thinks you’re special,” I say with a barking laugh. “Well, guess what? You’re not. You’re just another cheap piece of snatch. So get the hell out of here and never think about coming back.”

“Teagan?” says Saige with a hard gulp. “Listen, I didn’t mean to...”

“I don’t give a shit!” I say, throwing my arms up and charging toward her. “I know what you did, bitch, and I don’t fucking care. You really think you’re the first chick to come in here and think you could win over my daddy? Just go. And don’t let the door hit you in the ass, you stupid slut.”

I see her hesitate for a moment as if she wants to say something, but then she wisely keeps her mouth shut. As soon as she’s out of sight, I light up another cigarette, and after a few moments, I can feel my pulse return to normal.

After I smoke that cigarette down to the filter, I return to the house and do a full sweep to make sure she’s really gone. So far, none of my daddy’s little pets have caused any real trouble, but there was one chick who insisted on coming back because she forgot her bra. Once I’m sure Saige is safely dispatched, I lock the front door and engage the alarm.

I then walk over to the big mirror and make sure I look presentable before heading down the hallway to knock on my daddy’s office door.

Barbie

My daddy doesn’t respond, so I ease my way into his office.

He’s talking to someone on the phone, and he scowls when he sees me. He then tells the person he’ll call him back and hangs up.

“What do you want, Teagan?” says my daddy. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Oh, I know,” I say, stepping forward so I can lean against the edge of his desk. “I just wanted to know what you thought about the little present I brought you today.”

“Huh?” says my daddy. “Oh, you mean the slut? Yeah, she was fine. Bit of a body odor issue but otherwise okay.”

“Good, good,” I say, starting to feel warmer inside.

“Look, I’ve got work to do,” says my daddy. “Run along now.”

“Aww, Daddy, come on,” I say, the tone of my voice a bit whinier than I intended. “I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“Fine. I’m happy,” says my daddy, giving me a hard look. “Now go do your homework or whatever and leave me alone.”

“But Daddy...” I say, easing my legs apart so that my skirt rides up. “I was hoping you’d be in a good mood so we could, you know, hang out.”

“Enough of your nonsense, Teagan!” says my daddy, scowling as he glances down at the hemline of my skirt. “I don’t have time for this shit right now. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Fine!” I retort, standing up. “I just thought you’d be a little more grateful, that’s all.”

“Look,” says my daddy with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. “I'm going out later to meet a new contact. Maybe you could come with me if you want.”

“Yes!” I say, my cheerfulness immediately restored. “Wait, you don’t want me to...”

“No, no, nothing like that,” says my daddy with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She’s a woman. I’m not sure how the fuck she got to the position of being the head of her family, but somehow, she did.”

“Ah,” I say. “And you think she’s into you?”

“Uh, of course,” says my daddy with a chuckle. “Aren’t they all? Anyway, I was thinking maybe we could pull the same line we did at that hotel in Hilton Head Beach, you remember that?”

“Oh, I definitely remember that,” I say, a delicious tremor running through me.

“Great,” says my daddy, giving me a wan smile. “I’ll have to double-check, but I think our meeting is at seven at the Golden Palm. So, uh, dress up nice, yeah?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Daddy,” I purr.

“Good. Now get out of here,” says my daddy.

I fly out of his office and race upstairs, feeling almost giddy. My daddy’s business is all about rubbing elbows with all kinds of interesting characters, but it’s rare for him to let me into that world.

I’ve met a few of his partners over the years, but they’re mostly elderly guys with slicked-back hair over their balding domes and big bellies from years of eating too much rich food.

When I was younger, I used to dream about becoming his associate, his right-hand woman and the power behind the throne. But all that went out the window pretty quickly when I realized that people either didn’t respect me because I'm a girl or thought of me as nothing more than a piece of ass.

Eventually, I convinced my daddy to let me help him on some unusual cases, but those don’t come along too often. Now he has a firm he uses whenever he needs to set up a honeypot operation.

He told me that it’s for my own protection, but I think I could pull it off without endangering myself. After all, I learned how to seduce people from the best there is in the business: my own daddy.

Either way, the Hilton Head Beach operation was truly unforgettable. Looking back on it now, I’m not convinced that my daddy had it all organized ahead of time. It was just serendipitous that I happened to be with him in the cocktail lounge that evening when that woman came in, and the rest, as they say, is history.

So yeah, now I’m really looking forward to tonight!

There’s a room on the second floor that I use as one giant walk-in closet, so that’s where I’m headed. It’s where I keep all my costumes, as I call them, the different outfits and accessories that allow me to adopt any persona I want to. If I were a professional actress, they’d call it my wardrobe. But I’m no actress. This is all deadly serious business to me.

The Golden Palm is a pretty nice hotel. My daddy didn’t specify, but I assume we’ll be meeting up with his client in the restaurant or the bar, which means formalwear. I need something that won’t raise eyebrows but that also reveals a touch of naivete, as if I’m too young and innocent to really know how to belong in such an upscale establishment.

After going through the racks of clothing, I finally settle on a red number with a high slit up one side. The bright color is definitely going to attract some attention, so I think I’ll pair it with a blonde wig and some really expensive jewelry. That way, the look I’m going for will be a sugar baby out on a date with her sugar daddy.

I hold up the dress to the mirror and smile. Yes, I really think this will work. As I start picking out shoes and accessories, I begin rehearsing my backstory in my mind.

I find it helps to create a mini biography of who I’m supposed to be whenever I’m out on an operation, so I decide that I'm a second-year law student who thinks she wants a high-powered legal career but secretly wants to be a stay-at-home wife married to a rich and powerful man.

Once I’ve got everything laid out, I move down the hallway to my make-up and prep room. As I start getting my face ready, I flesh in some more details. I’m from a middle-class family on the East Coast, and I grew up in a neighborhood with some rich people in it, so I’m familiar with the good life even if I didn’t experience it personally.

It’s mostly my mother who’s pushing me to become a lawyer, but what neither of my parents know is that I’ve been on the sugar baby apps for more than a year now, learning how to manipulate men even though I’ve been taken advantage of a few times.

Yes, it’s perfect. I’m in denial that I’m basically a whore, but I have the solid upbringing and confidence to convince everyone that I’m a good person on her way up in this world.

Doing my make-up takes quite a while, but when I get my wig in place, it all feels right. I’m not sure if I’ll need to tell anyone my name, but if I do, it’s going to be Barbara, and if I get a chance, I’ll suggest that my friends call me Barbie.

Oh yeah, this is going to be good. As for my daddy, I met him on the apps, and going to the Golden Palm will be our first date, so I’m still in the phase of trying to convince him to adopt me as his sugar baby.

Considering I don’t have any background on his client other than she’s the head of her family, I think my backstory ought to do the trick. I return to the room where all my clothes are and start getting dressed. Once I’m in my heels and have my bracelets on and all my other accessories, I give myself a thorough examination in the mirror.

Wow, this place is so nice. Gosh! Amazing!

Yeah, I think Barbara would talk like that. Not too naive, though. After all, this isn’t her first rodeo. But she’ll definitely want to make it seem like she’s impressed by the sugar daddy’s choice of venue. She’ll also be sure to compliment him on how handsome his suit looks, too. And while she’ll order an alcoholic drink, she won’t let herself get too drunk.

Everything seems perfect, but there’s something that’s bothering me that I can’t quite put my finger on. I turn and twist in front of the mirror to look at myself from every angle, but I don’t see anything wrong. And then it finally hits me that I’m wearing underwear.

Somehow, I suspect Barbara is one of those sneaky girls who gets turned on by wearing a dress with a high slit up one side, knowing that she might inadvertently flash someone her crotch.

Sure enough, after I take off my panties, my intuition tells me that I’ve nailed it. I’m ambitious, slightly devious, yet ultimately gullible Barbara, out on her first date with the man she hopes will be her next sugar daddy. I’m absolutely convinced that this will work.

Unfortunately, though, I’ve still got several hours to kill, so I take off the wig and get undressed. I change into my sweats and then spend a little time in my hidey hole, first reviewing the video from earlier today to make sure it recorded perfectly and then putting on one of my favorite movies. It’s called “Breezy” and was directed by Clint Eastwood, but it isn’t a Western like most of his other films.

I fall asleep at one point, and I wake up in a panic, thinking it’s too late. But when I check my phone, I see I’ve got plenty of time, thank goodness. I clean myself up in the bathroom and then go and get dressed in my Barbara outfit. I then call an Uber and input the address of the Golden Palm as the destination.

By the time I step out of the house, my heels clattering on the steps, my heart is racing. I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I just know that it’s going to be an adventure.

Doing an operation with my daddy always is!

How the Game Is Played

The doorman knows better than to stare openly at me as I breeze past the entrance, but I definitely feel him giving me a sidelong glance.

Once in the lobby, it’s easy enough to find my way to the bar. I march straight over to an unoccupied stool and take a seat. I only have to wait about five seconds before the bartender sidles over, an intrigued smile on his face as he asks me what I want to drink.

“A French 75,” I say without any hesitation. “Martin Miller’s if you have it. Otherwise, anything that’s not from the well.”

“Coming right up,” says the bartender, one eyebrow slightly raised.

What most people don’t know is that the easiest way to get alcohol if you’re underage is to dress up nice and walk into the fanciest bar in town. It also helps if you act confidently, like you do this kind of thing all the time, and know your way around an upscale cocktail.

Sure enough, my drink arrives just a few moments later, and the bartender never asks to see any identification, which is good because I didn’t have time to mock up anything for my Barbara alias.

Keeping my legs crossed, I take a few tiny sips of my drink. The truth is that I don’t really like alcohol. First of all, it smells like gasoline and tastes about the same. Secondly, I don’t like the way it makes me lose my sense of self-control.

So my cocktail is really more of a prop, a necessary one as foolish little Barbara would definitely not be drinking a Coca-Cola ahead of her big date with a potential sugar daddy.

I see a couple of well-dressed businessmen glancing my way, but I make sure not to meet their eyes. I’m here to get a job done, not play stupid games with overgrown children. Finally, I see my daddy make his grand entrance, stopping and looking around as though he owns the place, a gesture that gets me all shivery inside.

“Well hey there,” I say in a voice intentionally loud enough to be overheard as I stalk my way over to him.

My daddy does an excellent job of pretending not to know me for a split second and then giving me a quick peck on each cheek by way of greeting.

“If you would, sir, your table is right this way,” says a uniformed waiter, giving my daddy a quick bow of respect before leading us over to a well-apportioned round booth in the corner.

It’s the kind of set-up that offers the maximum amount of privacy possible in such a public place, and once again, I have to commend my daddy for his skills. Likewise, he takes up position in the one place where he can keep an eye on the comings and goings, and I slide into the booth next to him.

“Can I take your drink order?” says the waiter, a bit of a flustered look on his face.

“Single malt scotch, neat,” says my daddy.

“I’m good, hon,” I say with a fake cheerful smile, holding up my cocktail.

“What’s with the dress?” growls my daddy as soon as it’s just the two of us.

“What? You don’t like it?” I say, smoothing down the fabric underneath my bust for maximum effect.

“A guy in my station would never stoop to consorting with such a cheap whore,” grumbles my daddy.

“Oh, Daddy,” I say, forcing myself to laugh. “Look, all this jewelry I’m wearing is legit. You’re just overreacting.”

“Whatever,” mutters my daddy, picking up the menu and perusing its contents.

“For the record, this is our first date,” I say. “We met on one of the sugar baby apps, and I’m trying to convince you to adopt me.”

“Huh?” says my daddy, his attention focused on the stupid menu.

“You know, where rich older men adopt sweet young things like me,” I say, giving his thigh a playful pat. “I told you about the apps before.”

“Not now,” says my daddy, pushing my hand away. “Wait until the contact gets here.”

“Aww, Daddy, don’t be grumpy,” I say with a teasing grin. “I thought you’d be in a better mood after I brought you that little treat this afternoon.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a lot of things on my mind, Teagan,” says my daddy, frowning as he sets down the menu. “There’s more to my life than just fucking the sluts you bring me.”

“Hey, I know that,” I say, now starting to feel a little hurt. “I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“Well, in that case, don’t lay it on too thick once she gets here, alright?” says my daddy, looking around everywhere but at me. “I want to juice her a little, but not too much.”

“Hey,” I say, an icy coldness descending over me. “I know how the game is played.”

“Do you?” says my daddy, his finger briefly tracing the outline of the slit in my dress. “Because I know you’re not wearing any panties.”

The fact that he’s so observant gets me even more wound up inside, and I have to clench my legs even more tightly together to keep myself focused on the task at hand.

“I... I did it for the role,” I say, forcing myself to take a deep breath. “Remember, I'm trying to impress you.”

“Ah,” says my daddy, rolling his eyes.

I’m just about to speak up and protest how unfairly he’s treating me when I see him go on alert. He springs to his feet so suddenly that I almost topple over sideways. I watch as his eyes light up and a big smile spreads across his face as a very elegantly dressed woman approaches our table.

At first glance, the average person would think she’s in her late 30s. But to my practiced eye, I can see the artfully applied make-up and the work she’s had done to conceal her true age. A far better gauge is her hands, and when I look at them, I calculate she’s more likely in her mid-50s, possibly even 60. Nonetheless, she’s a stunning woman with a clear poise and grace.

“Antonia, so nice of you to join me,” says my daddy, grasping both of her hands in the European manner of greeting.

“Max,” says the woman, a sly grin playing on the outside corners of her perfectly sculpted mouth.

“Please,” says my daddy, gesturing, and they both sit down.

“And who is this?” says Antonia, her eyes as hard as diamonds as she gives me a quick once over.

“This is my special friend,” says my daddy.

“Barbara,” I say, extending my hand. “But my friends all call me Barbie.”

“Ah,” says Antonia, her mouth smiling but her eyes remaining as cold and calculating as ever.

“Sorry, we were just having a quick little drink,” says my daddy before turning to me. “Um, Barbie, sweetie, maybe you can go to the bar for a minute while Antonia and I talk business.”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” I say, flashing my daddy my biggest, warmest smile as I slowly get to my feet.

I do an elaborate show of giving him a kiss on the mouth before slinging my purse over one shoulder and slinking away from the table in the direction of the bar.

I perch on a different stool this time, one that gives me a good sidelong view of my daddy and that woman. I’m still working on my ability to read lips, so I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I can see that my daddy is stressed, which is unusual. Most of the time, it’s the other person who looks worried.

The bartender sidles over, but I’m done with the need for pretense, so I order a sparkling water. He seems slightly mystified by that, but I don’t care. I need all of my senses focused so I can figure out when to make my move.

When the bartender returns with my drink, I also put in an order for some peanuts. Normally, I wouldn’t go for something as oily and fattening as that, but pretending to graze on a bowl of peanuts is one of the best ways there is to look innocuous when you’re secretly surveilling someone.

The next ten or fifteen minutes pass by in agonizing slowness. I see Antonia take out a file of some sort from her purse and lay it on the table in front of my daddy. By the way he’s reacting, I can see he’s upset, making me even more curious about what is going on. However, after he taps his finger on a few places on the paper, the old bitch begins nodding along in agreement with whatever it is he’s saying.

And then, to my immense surprise, he extends his hand and they shake for real, something I’ve never seen him do with a woman in my entire life.

Down the Wrong Path

Whoever this Antonia person is, she must represent a formidable interest for him to be according her this much respect.

After the handshake, my dad scans around until he spots a waiter and then summons him with a gesture, which is my cue to step in.

“As for sides?” I hear the waiter say as I approach.

“The house salad,” says my daddy.

“Very good,” says the waiter with a nod as he snaps shut his order book, giving my daddy a little nod before turning and walking off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Hey there, sweetie,” I say, wrapping my arms around my daddy’s neck. “I hope you’re done talking business because I’m really starting to miss you.”

“Yes, we’re done,” says my daddy, a trace of a frown on his handsome face as I scoot in next to him in the booth.

He really should know better than to show any displeasure at my presence like that, so now I know that he must be seriously rattled by this business with Antonia, whatever it is.

“Gosh, this sure is a fancy place, isn’t it?” I say, giving her a big old fake grin of astonishment.

“Yes, it’s fine,” says Antonia.

“When Max told me he was taking me here, I was like, ‘Wow!’ you know?” I say, adding in just a touch of a tipsy laugh.

“Only the best for my girl,” says my daddy with a chuckle.

It’s only because I know him so well that I can detect a hint of hollowness underneath his bonhomie. That makes me panic a little bit because I’ve never seen him off his game like this. What is it with this Antonia woman? Why is she having such an effect on him?

“So... you two work together?” I say, doing my best to look starry-eyed as I glance between my daddy and Antonia.

“You could say that, yes,” says Antonia, folding her hands together and looking far too pleased for my liking.

“Wow,” I say. “Maxxie baby tried to explain what kind of business he’s in, but I was like, ‘Ooopsie!’ you know? It all went right over my head.”

Antonia pretends to smile at that, and that further hardens my resolve to keep a sharp eye on her because she is definitely a predator.

“Indeed,” says my daddy with a grin before taking a sip of his scotch.

“When I was a little girl, we used to drive by this place all the time,” I say, scooting over and resting one of my hands on my daddy’s lap. “But I never thought I’d be all dressed up and sitting inside. Gosh!”

“Mm-hmm,” says Antonia, clearly fooled by my bimbo act.

“If only my daddy were here to see me now!” I say, looking over at my daddy with a genuine grin on my face.

“I’m sure he’d be impressed to know that you’re moving up in the world,” says my daddy, doing nothing to stop me as my hand moves further up his leg.

“So what about you, ma’am?” I say, casually glancing over at Antonia. “What kind of business are you into?”

“Oh, nothing you need to worry your head about,” says Antonia, her eyes like daggers as she unflinchingly meets and holds my gaze.

“I’m a law student at Crestwell,” I say, taking a tiny sip of my cocktail. “Second year. I’m still not sure what kind of law I want to practice though.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in your own time,” says Antonia before turning to my daddy. “Anyway, my offer still stands. Anytime you want to come by the marina and take a little tour of the bay, just let me know.”

“I’ll, uh, definitely keep that in mind,” says my daddy, his glass of scotch nearly empty, another sign that he’s off his game.

“You’d be surprised at how many little hidden inlets and estuaries there are,” says Antonia. “Unless you know your way around, it’d be really easy for someone to get lost out there.”

“Ah,” says my daddy with a hard gulp.

“Wow, you have your own boat?” I say. “That’s so cool.”

“I do,” says Antonia, her lips pursed. “I own a great many fine and wonderful things. That’s what happens when you apply yourself and work hard.”

I pretend to need a moment to process all that, and then I break out into a stupid, braying laugh.

“Awesome!” I say, wriggling my way closer to my daddy as I snake one arm around his back. “Hey, you want to take me out for a cruise on her boat? I’d love a chance to work on my tan.”

“Yeah, um, maybe,” says my daddy, one finger nervously tapping on his empty glass.

“Oh, it’s fine, Max,” says Antonia, plastering another fake smile on her face. “The more the merrier. That’s what I always say.”

“Okay, then, well, yeah,” says my daddy. “Soon as I get some free time, I’ll give you a ring.”

“Excellent,” says Antonia just as the waiter arrives bearing a heavily-laden tray.

I see that my daddy ordered a steak as well as another scotch. Antonia, however, has a plate set down in front of her containing only a single, unadorned steamed fish with a slice of lemon on the side.

“What about you, dear?” says Antonia. “Not eating?”

“Oh, me?” I say with a pretend nervous giggle. “Nah. I’ve got to watch my weight.”

“I see,” says Antonia, her movements calculated and precise as she picks up her fork and knife and begins slicing through the fish.

My dad, however, starts eating with gusto, and that’s when I noticed his face is unusually red. Whether it’s the booze or something else, I’m now beginning to get quite worried, so I give him a comforting squeeze around the waist.

As the two of them eat, I take out my phone and pretend to scroll through it, knowing that’s what Barbara would do in this situation, as rude as it is. Yet I maintain a sharp eye on Antonia, watching as she dispatches her fish in quick, efficient bites.

To liven things up a bit, I intentionally spill a bit of my drink down the front of my dress.

“Oops!” I say with a giggle, making a big show of grabbing some napkins and using them to pat my cleavage.

Curiously, Antonia barely reacts to that, but I see my daddy’s face take on a deeper hue of red. He then starts choking for a few scary moments, pounding on his chest until the obstruction is cleared.

“Whew, sorry about that,” says my daddy.

“As my mother always said, you have to watch out that things don’t go down the wrong path,” says Antonia with a low chuckle, a twinkle of malice in her eyes.

Suddenly, I know exactly what’s going on. If Antonia had been a man, I’m sure I would’ve figured it out a long time ago, but just like everyone else, I let my guard down because she’s a woman.

Sure enough, I glance over at my daddy’s glass of scotch and see a faint trace of white powder on the bottom.

“Well, well,” I say as I ease my pistol out of my purse.

“What the hell are you doing?” says my daddy, clearly startled.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I snarl as I point the gun right at Antonia, who doesn’t say anything, but I’m pleased to see her eyes go wide with fear. “This woman here is trying to kill you, Daddy.”

“What?” explains my daddy, but then he’s overwhelmed by another choking fit.

“I assume you have an antidote on hand just by way of precaution,” I say, the gun in my hand never wavering. “If so, hand it over. If not, I’m going to blow your brains all over the back of the wall behind you.”

Critical Juncture

Antonia gives me a hard look for a brief moment, but then she reaches into her purse and withdraws a small glass vial. She then slides it across the table.

I nod at my daddy, and he grabs the vial, uncorks it, and gulps down the contents. I keep my gun trained on Antonia until I see the color of my daddy’s face return to normal.

“Stand up,” I say. “Do not scream or yell or do anything to attract any attention as you walk out of here. If I ever see you again, you’re dead. Do you understand?”

“Indeed, I do,” says Antonia, giving me a cold smile as she follows my orders precisely.

Only when she’s safely out of sight do I let myself breathe. I slump back in my seat and put my pistol back in my purse.

“What the hell was that?” I say.

“I’m sorry,” says my daddy, his eyes wide with horror as he pushes away the contaminated glass that held his scotch. “I knew she was ambitious, but I didn’t realize she was that ambitious.”

“Well, from now on, you need to loop me in on all your business ventures,” I say. “Because if I hadn’t been here tonight, you would’ve been a goner.”

“I know,” says my daddy with a sigh. “I mean, I’d heard stories about how ruthless she was, but I just didn’t think she would dare take a swing at me, you know?”

“You’re off your game,” I say, picking up a napkin to dab a spot of sauce off his face. “Come on. You need to go home and rest.”

“I...” says my daddy, pausing for a long moment. “Okay.”

I signal for the waiter to bring us the check. My daddy pulls out a credit card and swipes it through the machine. A moment later it beeps, and then a receipt prints out. The total is a bit eye-watering, but all the money in the world would mean nothing if I’d lost my daddy.

Since his car is a stick shift, I call us an Uber, and half an hour later, we’re home. His eyes and color look good, but I can see that he’s exhausted, so I lead him over to the sofa in his office and have him lie down. I then untie and remove his shoes, followed by his socks.

“Okay, you wait here,” I say after propping up his head with a throw pillow.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” says my daddy with a soft moan. “It’s like my bones hurt from the inside.”

“It’s the after-effects of the poison,” I say. “Lie still, and I’ll be back in just a minute.”

As concerned as I am about my daddy’s health, it’s nice to see him being so agreeable for once. For far too long, he’s been acting really stubborn around me, always resisting my suggestions and input unless I push him hard.

I go down to the nearest bathroom and wet a towel in warm water. I then take a plastic basin out from underneath the sink, grab a few other supplies, and return to my daddy’s office as quickly as I can. When I arrive, he’s got one arm thrown up over his face to block the light, so I shut off everything but one lamp on a side table.