I walk into the kitchen on a bright, Sunday morning. Mom is seated at the table while Dad prepares whatever we're having for breakfast. The smell of roasted potatoes and eggs fill the kitchen. I'm wearing a pair of red and black plaid pajama shorts, and a tight, matching t-shirt. It's an outfit Mom has rolled her eyes at me for wearing in the past, but it's too comfy to not put on.
It's just the three of us in the house - and it's been that way for nineteen years. Mom and Dad met when they were in their early twenties, quickly got pregnant, and then had me. Now, Mom is forty-two, and still quite stunning. I definitely resemble her in our five foot, five inch height, long, dirty blonde hair, and our petite figures... though Mom has definitely put on a few pounds over the last few years from stress at her job. The only feature I inherited from Dad are his green eyes. Mom's are blue. Dad has always towered over both of us. He stands at a sterdy six foot, three inches. He weighs around two hundred and thirty pounds and is still in excellent shape from frequenting the gym and healthy dieting.
"Good morning," I say to both of them enthusiastically.
"Good morning, dear," Mom exhales under her breath.
"Hey baby, how did you sleep?" Dad asks me with bright eyes and a warm smile.
I am definitely a daddy's girl. Even now at nineteen years old, I know I can pretty much get anything I want from him -- though I use that privilege sparingly.
I take a seat at the table and respond, "I slept great! Weird dreams, but very well rested!"
Dad smiles and curiously answers, "Oh yeah? Weird dreams? Like what?"
Mom rolls her eyes and asks, "Connor, what does it matter? They were just silly dreams."
Dad and I exchange glances as he smiles and says, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Ready for some food, Raya?"
My name is Andrea, but they like to call me Raya (ray-uh) for short. Something Dad came up with when I was just a baby.
"Yeah, I'm starving! Bring it on!"
We ate breakfast almost in silence. There seems to be some kind of tension between Mom and Dad, which frankly, wasn't anything new. Since I had been back in the house from college, it's like I've slowly watched them drift further and further apart. I can't understand why. Mom always seems so stressed and upset, and Dad, so care free and jovial. Maybe it's a depression thing.
As we finish up, Mom thanks Dad and smiles at me, and then walks off from the table and goes downstairs to her office to dig into some of her work. She is most definitely a workaholic and almost seems most content while doing it. Dad and I do the dishes together as he looks over at me.
"So what do you have planned today, Raya? Anything exciting? Mountain climbing? Bunjee jumping?"
I laugh and respond, "No, no. Nothing that crazy. I was thinking of doing some shopping though. I still need a whole bunch of clothes. A complete closet overhaul."
Dad looks suspiciously at me as he solemnly asks, "And what about the money I gave you last week? Where did that go? I thought that was going towards this little overhaul."
I giggle and explain, "What, the fifty dollars? I appreciate it Daddy, but that only got me like... one top and a skirt. If I really want to bring in the new, I'll definitely need some more."
He looks confused again as he asks, "You need to get rid of everything? I can't believe that. There's gotta be some things you can keep."
I fold my arms over one another and smile as I respond, "If I want to look ragged, maybe. Seriously, it's time. I already went through all of them!"
As he dries off his hands, he walks over to the kitchen table and takes a seat and has a sip of his coffee. He then looks up and says, "Okay, maybe I'm just out of touch on prices for these things these days. What are you typically paying for all your clothes? How much are tops, jeans, shorts...?"
I walk over and have a seat across from him, folding my hands together as I explain, "Well... a pair of shorts is like thirty dollars. Tops are about twenty. A skirt... about thirty. Dresses are around forty to sixty. Jeans are like fifty..."
He interrupts me and exclaims, "Sixty dollars for a dress?! That's insane!"
I laugh and say, "That's not even everything! Even my underwear are expensive! Panties are like five to ten dollars per pair, and bras are fifteen to twenty."
He stops me again and says, "Okay, okay, I think I got it. Why don't we do this: You show me an article of clothing that, in your mind, needs to go, and I'll give you the money for a replacement. When we're done, we can tally it up and you can run off and get what you need. Fair enough?"
I smile and nod my head in agreement. "That sounds fair enough! You'll see. I'm in major need of some funds to replace all of this stuff."
He chuckles again and says, "Yeah, yeah. We'll see. Here, how about you go figure everything out and we meet in the living room?"
I stand up from my seat and say, "Okay, see you in there!"
I hurry down the hall into my room and walk over to my large walk-in closet. Thankfully, I had already done the hard work of going through everything and taking the stuff down that I didn't want anymore. I would just need to convince Dad that they needed to go, too.
I grab two pairs of jeans from the pile and walk back out into the living room where I find him sitting. I hold them up as I say, "See, remember these? They are so old. So it would be one hundred for these two..."
He laughs and says, "Nice try, Raya. You have to try them on! Then we can see if they really need to go."
I roll my eyes as I sigh and grumble, "Fiiiine," in a bratty tone. I walk back down the hall into my room and quickly strip out of the red shorts, down to a pair of full black panties. I pull up the light-colored jeans first, and struggle as I try my best to squeeze into them. My midriff is still exposed in the little top. I walk down the hall and round the corner as I dramatically say, "See? They're so tight. I can hardly breathe."
He laughs as he responds, "Okay, fine. Maybe those have gotten a little snug on you. I think I can help you there. What is that... fifty?"
I smile as I nod my head and turn back around to return to my room. Next, I remove the light colored jeans and pull up the darker jeans. Similar problems occur with how tight they are. They are so short they nearly fit like capris. I quickly move back into the living room.
As soon as I walk in, he says, "Oh, no way! It feels like we bought those for you a year ago. They already don't fit?"
I giggle and say, "It's been over a year now! And no, they don't fit at all. Squats are the culprit."
He laughs and says, "Are they snug in the back too?"
I roll my eyes again and turn around, showcasing the way I nearly break through the seams in the back of the jeans. After a few more moments, he finally concedes.
"Fine, I guess that's another fifty then. What else, Raya?"
I walk back down the hall and into my room. It's almost easier than I thought it would be. He has already agreed to give me one hundred dollars and we still have so many garments to go.
I look through the pile and sort it all out. A few pairs of shorts, some tops, a few skirts, and a few dresses. There is a little pile of bras and panties too, but I figure I can just give him a count on those. Walking around the house in my underwear isn't really the norm these days. I remember when I went to the kitchen a few weeks ago in just a pair of panties and a t-shirt. Mom gave me a very dirty look. I don't want to think this way, but it might be jealousy?
I strip out of the jeans and the red pajama top, standing in just the black panties. I pull up a little pair of cut-off jean shorts and fasten them. They are very little on me, and my cheeks have very little coverage in the back. I then pull over a tight, black tank top. It presses against my cleavage and shows half of my stomach. I make my way back down the hall. I had a feeling I already knew how the shorts would be received.
As I walk in, his eyes widen.
"Raya, what the hell are those? Are those shorts or underwear? I can barely tell. Have I been letting you leave here in those? Turn around."
I laugh and add, "I told you! I wasn't lying."
I do as he asks and I turn around to show off the back. He pauses for a moment and then finally speaks up.
"Well you definitely won't go out in those again. We'll need to get you new ones. What's that -- thirty more? For shorts that don't show the world your whole ass, that's a small price to pay. And that top is way too small on you. Another fifteen?"
I giggle and say, "I have another like these, so probably sixty. The other pair is even worse. And tops are twenty, remember?"
He folds his arms over one another and insists, "I find it hard to believe you have anything smaller than these ones, honey."
I confidently look back at him and say, "I definitely do. Hold on..."
I walk quickly back to my room, shedding the little shorts and top and replacing them with the next. A very tight pair of black athletic shorts, fitting more like boy shorts, and a gray sports bra that I haven't worn in years. They almost looked silly on me, being so small, but they did accentuate my more womanly features; Especially my long tone legs. I return to the living room to show them off.
As I walk in, I hear him mutter, "Jesus, Raya. You haven't been going to the gym in that, have you?"
I laugh and respond, "No! Of course not! Just workouts in my room. Lots of yoga."
He looks relieved as he says, "Good. Those will need to be donated too. Or just worn at home for your yoga."
He looks me up and down several more times before I say, "All right, skirts and dresses?"
He smiles anxiously and jokes, "At the risk of giving me a heart attack, yeah, go ahead."
I walk back off to my room, and strip off the little shorts, the sports bra, and the panties this time. I was ready for a full outfit change. I pull up a pair of pink and white striped panties that definitely do not fit as well as they used to. I then pull a cute floral dress over my head, covering my body. It is ruffled in the shoulders. The dress is white with a variety of little flower colors and combinations throughout the pattern. It isn't very low cut, still covering most of my cleavage. It is, however, quite short. A slight bend would likely expose the cotton material underneath.
I prance back out to the living room, seeing Mom in the kitchen grabbing herself a drink. I'm standing in the middle of the room in the little dress, and Dad is seated on the couch as she walks in.
Dad smiles and says, "Raya is showing me which of her clothes need to go and be replaced. She wasn't kidding. Do you want to join the fashion show? You could be a judge... or maybe another model?"
Mom laughs sarcastically at the suggestion and says, "No, no. I have more work to do. I do like this dress a lot, but it might be a little short on you now, honey." She starts to walk back to her office and adds, "You two have fun!"
Dad smiles at me as he inspects my dress, tucking his hand under his chin as he thinks.
"I remember buying this one for you too. Your Mom's right, it looks good on you, but maybe a bit short? Let's see the back."
I turn around and respond, "I think you're both right. I did notice that when I bend over, I'm definitely showing too much."
Dad laughs and says, "Come on, I'm sure it isn't too bad, sweetie."
I slowly start to bend forward as the back of the short dress raises up the back of my thighs, uncovering the little pink and white striped panties bunched against my cheeks.
After a few seconds, I look back and say, "Well? Still think it fits?"
Dad looks a little flustered; probably not expecting to see so much of me. His face turns slightly red as he stammers for a moment.
"I ... uhm. Yeah, that dress probably needs to go. Are the panties a little small too, baby?"
Still facing away from him, I think for a second and say, "I mean, yeah. They are a little tight, you know?"
I pull up the bottom of the dress to show off my plump cheeks barely hidden by the little bit of cotton covering them. He looks at them a little bit longer this time. It's hard to tell what precisely he is thinking.
Finally, he says, "Well, we did say that was part of it. So what, sixty for the dress, ten for your... those..."
Giggling, I cut him off and ask, "My panties?"
He chuckles and says, "Yeah, those. Wasn't sure what you girls like to call them these days."
He is acting somewhat strangely. Likely just seeing too much of his daughter. Dad's are always a little weird about their daughters growing up. It's probably just something along those lines.
"Okay, well, perfect! I will run and get changed again!"
I run back down the hall and strip off the dress and the pink and white panties. Next, I find a pair of seamless, white panties. Once again, they are a size too small. I then pick up a pleated, light denim skirt and pull it up. Next, a matching denim halter top. The skirt is extremely short from being older, and the halter top can barely contain my cleavage from spilling out. My long legs and midriff are exposed as I return to the living room. Dad laughs as soon as he sees me.
"You look like a Barbie doll, sweetie! Go on, let's see it all."
I do a quick turn around to provide a three hundred, sixty degree view.
Dad smiles at me and says, "I think I owe you even more money, Raya. These are obviously too small for you, too. If you wore this out, guys would be on you like piranhas. So, what's that, eighty?"
I nodded my head and added, "yeah, but also underneath, remember?"
It is so awkward, showing off the panties. I try to give him an out, in case it's too uncomfortable.
I cross one ankle over the other as I suggest, "Actually, I can just tell you how many pairs I have that need to go, and we can just add up the total."
He chuckles again and playfully says, "Yeah, nice try. Then I'll just be buying you everything on display at Victoria's secret. I'm onto you!"
I giggle and say, "noo, I wouldn't do that!"
He smiles back at me and sarcastically says, "Yeah, sure." He pauses for a moment and adds, "Seems like you're trying to get a little more money, huh? Maybe we can turn this into some kind of game. Make it interesting. How about this: if I can guess the color of your panties correctly, you get nothing except the ten. But if I get it wrong, you get twenty. How's that?"
I laugh, considering the ridiculousness of the offer, but see it as a no-lose scenario for me. I smile and say, "All right, deal! Sooo.... what color do you think I have on?" I place my hands on my hips and move them back and forth slowly as I await his guess.
He smirks and thinks for a few moments. "Let's see... denim set... short skirt. I'm going to guess... gray?"
I smile victoriously as I turn around and lift up some of the skirt. "Wrong! They're just white this time!" I show him the full backside of the panties as he smiles with slight defeat written on his face.
"Okay, okay. You got lucky. So that's twenty for this pair. Go on and change into your next outfit, honey. I'm sure I'll get it right on the next one!"
I laugh as I make my way back to my room and strip out of all of the garments. Next, I put on a little black set; a lace thong and bra. The thong is itty-bitty, and is snug against my most sensitive areas. The bra is tight against my chest. I then pull over a little red dress. It's rather tight and short on me. Fairly low cut, showing a trace of the black bra underneath. The thong is mostly hidden, but the straps can be made out a little under the tight dress. The length is short, resting high up my thighs. I prance back out to the living room to find him in the same spot.
He thinks for a moment and says, "Really, you don't like that dress honey?"
I do a quick spin and answer, "Nope, I don't love the way it fits anymore. It's just a little too tight in some areas. Anything I wear underneath it can be seen so easily."
He inspects me again for a moment and smirks as he says, "Yeah, I did notice that. And I'm sorry to say, I do know it's black underneath, so nothing extra."
My mouth opens wide, playfully annoyed. "Hey! That's not fair, I can't help it! I shouldn't have even worn anything underneath for this dress, I guess."
His eyebrows raise at the mention of that idea. He seems to realize it isn't really fair as he suggests, "Okay, okay, maybe that wasn't totally fair. If you're sure you want the dress to go, let's just look at what's underneath. If we think they have to go too, I'll give you double for them. That way you aren't missing out."
Did he just ask me to strip down in front of him? Down to just my underwear? I mean, it is just underwear, but it's a thong, and a lace bra... and we're in the living room. And this can't be a normal father-daughter activity.
I look at him a little peculiarly, but then decide to call the bluff. "Okay, deal," I say as I reach down and lift the little dress up over my head, exposing the little black thong I have on, the little lace bra, and all of my warm, sun-kissed skin - areas typically only on display in bikinis. I drop the dress on the floor beside me.
After a few seconds, with my hands on my hips, I ask, "See how small they both are? These have definitely run their course."
He looks frozen in time as he stares at my exposed figure without as much as a peep. Finally, he speaks up and says, "No, I think you're right. I think they look great, but definitely too small. I'm sure the back is almost non-existent, huh?"
I turn around and show off the view from the back. The lace fabric is wedged between my round cheeks and can only be seen on my hips from that vantage point.
I add, "Yeah, which isn't bad if everything is the right size. But it's just too tight. Whenever I put them on, I just want to rip them off!"
He laughs and says, "Okay, okay. Well a deal is a deal. Twenty for the undies and thirty for the bra."
I correct him and say, "And fifty for the dress?"
He smiles and agrees, "Yes, and fifty for the dress. You're really cleaning me out, Raya," he says jokingly. "Pretty soon, I'll be dipping into the ol' retirement fund."
I pick up the dress and say, "Yeah right, I know you're good for it. I've seen you and mom's closets!"
He smiles fonly at me as I walk back over to my room, a little nervous about running into mom, so moving quicker to return unseen. It would have been a little awkward to explain. I quickly snap off the bra and throw it in the discard pile.
I can't believe I just stripped down in front of him like that. I mean, he suggested it, but it was still a strange feeling. It didn't feel bad. Just a little odd, and maybe a little wrong. This was a very bizarre game we were playing, but I was going to get so much money from it. I had no intentions of stopping now.
I decide to keep the same black thong on for the next outfit. Maybe I can pass it off as a different one and get an extra twenty dollars.
I pull up a little black tennis skirt - definitely the shortest of the skirts and dresses thus far, and then I pull over a hot pink sports bra. I then return to the living toom where Dad sits and waits.
As I walk in, he smirks and says, "Let me guess, too tight, too small, or too short, and need money?"
This activity is definitely getting repetitive, but he suggested it. He wanted this to be a fashion show after all, so I'm just giving him one.
I smile and answer, "Bingo. This sports bra is too small, and the skirt is too short. I can barely move in it without showing everything underneath. Oh, and another pair of panties that are too small too."
He folds his arms over one another, seated on the couch, and requests, "Oh yeah? Let's see. I'm going to guess... red this time?"My face is the only red thing in the room as he asks for the evidence. After all he's been willing to give to me, I don't know what made me want to lie. But I turned around and quickly flapped the skirt up, exposing the black thong for half a second before covering it up again.
I look back at him and his eyes meet mine with a suspicious look.
"Black, eh? Is that not just the same thong from before?"
Blushing a liitle more now, I try to confidently explain, "No, it looks very similar, but it's different. Different brand even."
He chuckles and says, "Oh really? Come over here, Raya."
I walk over to him as he grabs my waist and quickly spins me around where I stand and lifts up the skirt. I feel his finger slide between the smooth skin on my lower back and the black fabric to look at the tag. His hands only a few inches from my butt.
"So what brand are these ones, young lady?"
I peak back at him over my shoulder and sheepishly guess, "Uhm... I think these are the Aerie ones? I think the other ones were from Urban."
His finger lingered between my waistband for a while as he finally pulls it out, letting my skirt fall back to its previous position.
He smiles and states, "These ones are Aerie, it says. So you're sure you aren't mistaken?"
I nod my head, signifying I'm telling the truth, my face likely reddening by the second.
He shrugs his shoulders and says, "Okay, then let's do this. Since you're so confident, go change back into the other ones. If you're telling the truth, I'll give you another hundred dollars to spend. But if you're lying, you lose everything we've tallied up so far."
I start to say something, but he quickly cuts me off, "Go and change, honey."
I sigh heavily as I respond, "Okay, one second..." and then I walk back to my room.
As I walk in, I remember that I have a somewhat newer black thong that I could try to pass off as the other one. I wasn't sure if he would go for it or not, but it seemed like my best option. I walk over to my dresser and pull down the thong and replace it with the new one. The main issue was, this new one is silk, and provides a little more coverage. It will be hard to pass it off. But it's better than accepting defeat and losing the hundreds of dollars accumulated today. With the one pair in-hand, I walk back out to him to see if I can make this work.
I walk in, holding the other thong up in my right hand. "See?" I ask, trying my best to sound more confident. "These were the ones I just showed you, and then this is the one from before that!"
I turned around, lifted the skirt slightly, and bent over just so, revealing the little black, silk thong underneath. I peaked back at him to see if he was buying it. I was surprised to see him looking at his phone.
"Funny - I have pictures of everything you've worn so far... but I can't seem to find this black, silk thong you have on sweetie."
I can tell my face reads guilty. Why was he taking pictures of everything? I didn't even notice he was doing it. He was getting pictures of me in my underwear too?
"Now, either my memory and technology are failing us, or you lied to me. Maybe I should go see a doctor and head over to the cellular store here soon..." His sarcastic tone tells me there is no way I'm convincing him.
I finally concede, "Okayy... I'm sorry. I lied to try to get a little extra money."
He looks at me a little more seriously as he says, "Raya, I was giving you plenty of money. Even giving you extra for a silly game. Why would you lie and not just ask?"
I looked down at the floor as I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, it was dumb. I'm sorry."
I hated lying to Dad and disappointing him. He always had a way of making me feel absolutely awful about it.
He takes a deep breath and says, "I'll give you another option. You can either lose all the money, and we just start over. And now you know I'm keeping track of everything..."
I wait for a second and ask, "...Or?"
He responds, "Or you take some responsibility for it and you keep all the money."
I look at him suspiciously and ask, "Take responsibility...?"
He chuckles and says, "Yeah, take responsibility. You think you're too old to be spanked?"
My eyes widen and my jaw drops slightly as I hear his second option. It seems so absurd. Receiving a spanking from my Dad at nineteen would be so inappropriate, wouldn't it? But to keep the money seemed like a no brainer.
I laugh and place my hands on my hips as I asked, "You seriously want to spank me for lying? I know I shouldn't have done it. I promise I won't again!"
He calmly responds, "Of course I don't want to, Raya. But you did lie to me, and I'm trying to give you an option to not ruin your shopping spree."
He stares me down confidently as I consider it. It would be so weird, wouldn't it? But it also seemed like my best option.
With another exasperated breath, I say, "Fine. I guess I'll take responsibility," motioning air quotes for his terms.
I walk over to where he's sitting and turn around to face away from him. I bend over and wait to feel his hand clap against my cheek. Instead, he adds another thing.
"No, no, no. I think you forget how this goes. Over my knee, here," he explains, pointing to his left knee.
I scoff quietly as I do as he says, feeling somewhat embarassed and ridiculous. I watch as he sits back with a stern half-smile on his face, like he's teaching me a lesson. I take a step forward between his knees and choose his left knee to lean over. I rest my stomach on his large thigh, draping my chest off the other side of it and planting my hands into the rug. My knees rest on the floor and my butt, still half covered by the skirt, is near his mid-section. A few seconds pass as I feel him gently lift the skirt, exposing more of my butt. I then feel a light *tap* on my left cheek, and then another *tap* on my right. Somewhat confused, I hear him start to laugh as he helps to lift me up off of his knee.
As I stand and face him, he smiles and winks at me and says, "There. Lesson learned?"
I take a step forward and playfully punch him in the shoulder. I respond, "Oh my god, that was so not funny. I thought you were serious!"
He laughs and says, "I am serious - you can consider that a warning. If you lie to me again, you can believe I'll make sure you feel it."
I roll my eyes and say, "Fiiine. Whatever. I deserve that I guess."
The way we have been interacting feels very complex. It doesn't feel like I am hanging out with my Dad. It feels like I am hanging out with a friend. But even more than that. It feels silly. Like kind of... flirty? I can't put my finger on it.
He looks at me with a warm smile. His green eyes shining into mine. He asks, "What now, sweetie? Anything else?"
As I look back at him, a part of me can tell he doesn't want this game we're playing to end. And I feel the same way. But I'm not sure what else I had to try on.
"I think that might be it. There's only a few other things in my closet I haven't gone through yet. It's... let's see... sixty for these two things. Not the undies..."
He swiftly hops up from the couch, towering over me, and says, "Fine, sixty it is there. Now why don't we go take a look and see if there's anything else you need?"
I watch him bend down and pick up the little black thong I tried on, and hold my hand out as he gives it back to me.
"Oh! Thank you! We don't need my underwear laying all around the house." I pause for a second and command, "Come on!"
As he follows along, I hear him chuckling, still likely amused by that display back on the couch. I can't believe he made me do that. And then just to tap my butt like that. I was lucky he didn't seriously take the money back...
I lead us down the hall to my bedroom. It's bright, and pink, and smells like cotton candy in the room. Everything is neat and tidy except for the piles outside my closet with the different articles I've shown Dad. He shows himself into my closet and looks around. It's nerve wracking having a parent in my space. He is only several feet away from a little stash of weed, and a drawer of lingerie and toys. I was silently praying he wouldn't do too much exploring.
He looks at me and says, "Everything else in here looks pretty modern, Raya. Did we do it? Should we just tally up everything you showed me?"
I look around as well and respond, "Yeah, I think that might be everything, honestly. I have like two more pairs of panties, and a bathing suit. Do you want to just give me ... what would that be... like sixty dollars? Then we can be done."
He thinks for a moment and says, "We could do that, if you just want sixty. If you want more than that, we could play guess the color again. If I guess wrong, double the value."
I look at him curiously and ask, "And if you guess right?"
It feels so strange that I'm almost anticipating something dirty will be coming from his mouth. It's all felt so intimate to me and I can't imagine he hasn't had an intrusive thought. I, of course, didn't want him to have any abnormal thoughts or feeling about me by any means. I just almost expected he might, given how much skin he's been privy to.
He laughs and answers, "If I'm right, you can still have double. You just have to act amazed. Maybe bow at my feet. We'll see how I'm feeling."
I laugh at the silliness he consistenty exhibits. It reminds me of how weird I am for thinking about all of this as anything but a dad helping his daughter.
I answer, "Okay, deal. As long as I don't get spanked again." I laugh and add, "Sit on the bed, I'll change in the closet!"
I walk over to the walk-in closet and shut the door, leaving it only slightly cracked. I strip off the little skirt and sports bra, placing them into the discard pile. I then pull down the little black thong, smiling as I think about trying to lie to him, him making me think he was going to spank me, and me wondering for maybe a little too long about what it would feel like if he did.
I first pulled up a pair of full, navy panties with white flowers on them. They fit very tightly, being so small. I pulled them up to really press against my cheeks and soft mound in the front. I then pull over a white, cropped t shirt. It was a little loose, so my nipples were not quite showing through the soft, cotton material. I look at myself in my full length mirror and then step over to the closet door to call out to him.
"Ready? The first one's a little tricky," I say as I look down at them. "They have a white flower pattern on them."
A few seconds go by as I hear him respond, "White flowers... hmmm... I'm going to say they are... blue?"
As I hear him guess, I open the door and reveal the answer to him, smiling as I say, "They're really navy, but I guess we can take blue."
He laughs as he says, "Hey, we didn't say I needed to guess the shade of the color. Just the color."
As I walk over to where he sits on my bed, he tucks his hand under his chin while observing.
"I like these ones, honestly. Why are you getting rid of them?"
I twirl my finger in my hair and respond, "They just bunch up a little too much. Just a tad too small."
He chuckles and says, "Maybe it's because of how high you wear them, girl! You have them pulled up to your ears!"
I giggle and say, "No! I'm serious! Look," I turn around and face away, showing off the back of the panties. "See, if I pull it out," I stick my index fingers on either side, pulling the panties out between my cheeks, "then they'll be fine for a second. But as soon as I bend over..." I demonstrate the issue as I lean forward, causing the fabric to wedge itself back in between them.
I look back as I hear him laugh and see him snap a photo. It makes me laugh a little as well as I respond, "Hey! What's so funny? I'm being serious. This is a problem! And you're just laughing and taking pictures?"
He continues laughing as he says, "I know, I know. You ladies are just so funny. You buy thongs and are fine with them all day, but as soon as a pair of panties acts like a thong, you want to throw them away. It's just funny."
A stand back up and place my hands on my hips as I unwedge the fabric once again. "Yeah, sure," I say sarcastically.
He laughs and says, "Also, no props on me guessing right? Where's the amazement?"
I roll my eyes and respond, "Oh yeah, you're right, hold on."
I get down on my knees in front of where he sits and start to bow to him. "All hail the panty-color-knower."
I watch as he takes a few pictures with the camera facing down towards me. He smiles, and says, "Thank you, that's more like it. Now what's next?"
I stand back up, then turn and walk to the closet, cracking the door behind me as I strip off the navy pair. I then reach for the next pink and plaid thong. I think it went to an old halloween costume. It was cheap and shabby material. I couldn't have paid more than a few dollars for it. The twenty would be a great return. I pull it up and adjust it in place, then yell back out through the door.
"Okay... ready? The next one is plaid but is mostly one color... what do you think it is?"
There is silence for a moment, and then he says, "Well, well... plaid, eh? My gut is telling me it's red. But I can't always trust my gut..." A few more seconds go by when he finally guesses, "I don't know, Raya. Is it... pink?"
I swing the door open and look playfully annoyed as I exclaim, "How are you guessing all of these right?! Do you have a camera in my closet? How are you doing this?"
I walk out to him and show off the front of the little garment. He laughs and observes as he says, "Just father's intuition. It's my job to know what you're up to at all times. Twenty-four hour surveilance. You'll get it when you have a kid one day."
I certainly hope he isn't always watching. There are plenty of things I do in this room that would be embarrassing for him to see.
I smile and concede as I say, "Well, you did it again, then. Pretty impressive!"
He laughs and says, "Not as impressive as these ones you're wearing! Those are cute, Raya. I mean, why are you getting rid of them?"
I pause for a second and answer, "Honestly, they're just kind of cheap. I don't know what brand they are, but they just don't feel the best."
He smiles and says, "Well let's make sure you don't get them again then. Come here, let me see."
I walk towards him to where he sits on my bed. As I get within arms length, he spins me around again and pulls my hips a little closer to his lap. I almost sit out of instinct, but stop myself, realizing how weird that would be. I feel him again reach into my waistband and fish out the tag. He holds it there for a second, mumbling curiously.
"Never heard of it, sweetie," he says as he tucks the tag back in and adjusts the waistband on both sides, lifting it slightly higher than it was before. I'm so happy my face is away from his as I feel my front teeth bite down gently on my lower lip. We need to be done with this already. The odd intimacy is inspiring very foreign emotions I know it shouldn't be. It almost seems like he's intentionally messing with me. But there's no way. He would never.
I take a step forward as I say, "Okay, so... the bathing suit?"
He chuckles and says, "Finally the last one right? Wait, I need a picture of these ones."
I turn around and face him as I wait for him to take the photo.
"It's a little hard to tell what kind they are from the front. I think the back shows what type of panties they are a little better, honey."
I turn back around with a smile as I comply.
He then adds, "Well, maybe not. Now I can hardly even make out the color of the fabric. Maybe try leaning forward a little?"
I do as he says, bending at the waist and arching my back. I was certain this pose was giving him a thorough view of the fabric covering my little mound.
Finally, he says, "Okay, perfect. Got it in the records here for the tally. Probably best I do the math soon and get these out of my phone, huh? I have a gallery full of my daughter's underwear."
I giggle and say, "Yeah, probably. Mom would probably think it's a little weird."
I walk into the closet and crack the door close to closed again. I strip out of the little thong and the top, now completely naked. What would Mom think if she saw those photos? How would he explain it to her?
I hear him laugh as he admits, "Yeah, she might, huh? Or, God forbid I accidentally post one to social media... 'Proud father posts half naked daughter.' I can imagine the headlines."
I giggle as I pull up the little bikini bottoms. They are a green and white checkered pattern, high waisted, and are very skimpy.
I add, "Hey, at least I look good. Maybe we would get famous. Like the Kardashians! Except without the... video."
The swimsuit is comparable to one of my thongs as the fabric hides between my cheeks. There are bows on the sides of my hips from where the strings have been tied together. I then pull over the matching bikini top, tying it on behind my back. I make a few adjustments and then walk over to the door.
"Okay, I'm ready. Have you done the tally on the others?"
I listen and hear him say, "looks like it's about... Jesus. About six hundred dollars. Your Mom is going to kill me for this."
I giggle behind the door and suggest, "Or, you could just keep it between us. I won't tell if you won't!"
He chuckles and asks, "Are you suggesting we lie again, young lady? You know I can't reward bad behavior."
His question brings me back to being bent over his lap. Him pulling up my skirt and exposing my warm cheeks, and my soft mound wrapped in the black silk fabric. There's a sick part of me that was curious about how that would have played out had he spanked me harder and shared the same lapse in familial instincts that I felt in the moment.
I then ask, "So... what do you guess? It's two colors, and one of those colors is white."
He thinks for a moment, likely surveying his mind for memories of me in a bikini. I then hear, "I think I'll go with... green?"
I open the door and let out another defeated breath as I show him he's correct. "Seriously, how did you know?!" As I walk over to him, I see he has a picture pulled up on his phone. It's a photo of me from last year in the same little bikini. Even from that photo, the progress made from my workouts shows in the way I have made this bikini shrink in all the best places.
I walk towards him and playfully punch his shoulder again as I say, "That's no fair! You cheated! Where did you even get that photo?!"
He laughs as he says, "Maybe it is cheating a little bit. I took it when we went to the beach last year. Remember? We all went to the beach, and then I had to watch men, old and young, gawk at my eighteen year old daughter? You don't remember?"
I giggle awkwardly and rub the back of my head as I respond, "Oh yeah, I do remember that now. I wasn't looking for all that attention. I didn't know there would be that many people there."
He sets his phone beside him and reaches out for me, grabbing my hips and pulling me a little closer to him. "Suuuure, you didn't," he says with a laugh. "Is that why, when you stepped foot on the beach, you pulled these little strings six inches higher?"
He takes the little bows on each side of my hips between his fingers and lifts them up. The fabric presses against my mound and goes deeper in between my bubbly cheeks. I look at him amusedly, trying my best to hide any expression from the sensation on my face.
"There, they were just like this," he says as he takes his hands away.
I giggle and refute, "Come on, I don't think they were this bad."
I pick up his phone next to him and look at the picture, realizing he has many more from that day in his gallery. All of me. Why does he have so many? Ones of me running into the water, standing and looking at the water, laying down on my towel. I have no memory of him taking all of them. And he definitely never shared them with me before. It was certainly curious.
hand him the phone back and say, "I never knew you took so many photos of me. I would have liked to have seen those! Maybe they would have made it on my IG?"
He smiles and says, "I don't want to see my daughter's ass on her IG page, Raya."
I half-jokingly respond, "No? So just in your phone?"
He chuckles again and says, "No, I never look at them. I just like taking pictures of you. A father can't enjoy taking photos of his daughter?"
I smile and respond, "I guess it's kind of nice, so it's okay. It's the last time you'll be seeing me in this, so make sure you get a good one!"
He laughs and says, "I don't know why you're getting rid of these, honestly. It all looks great on you, sweetie."
I giggle and say, "As much as I appreciate that, it's just a little too much. Too tiny." I point to my breasts, "See, the fabric is hardly even covering me here. My whole chest is exposed. One wrong move, everyone gets a show." I then point down to the front of the bikini, "and this is almost only string. Look at this little triangle cut-out of fabric. It barely covers everything."
He holds the phone up and takes a picture as I stand there with my hands on the strings of the bottoms. He then says, "Point taken. Go on, what else don't you like?"
As if he's cued me to show off the back, I turn around and showcase the back of the bikini. The little green and white string pressing against me, serving as the fabric divide in my smooth, round, heart-shaped butt.
I look back at him as he stares at my exposed cheeks and I say, "Just like, how much it shows, I guess. Or how little it covers. Look, when I bend over, I don't even know that it's covering everything back there."
I bend over at the hips, straighten my back, and then arch it, raising my cheeks up slightly. I can feel them separate a little from taking the pose. I watch him snap another photo.
"Yeah, that's... you're right, I think... too much on display there. That much fabric belongs under other clothes only."
I giggle as I stand back up and say, "No, you know what, I think I've changed my mind. I'm going to go do yoga in the park in this."
I drop down to my hands and knees, adjusting the placement of my hands and knees. I first round out my spine and lower my head in a cat's pose, stretching myself out. I then shift and raise my head slowly, arch my back, and stick my butt up higher into the air. I can feel the fabric stretch across the smooth valley between my legs. I don't look back as I hold the pose for a second, and release a big exhale. My cheeks spread apart slightly, and I push my feminity outward as well, all in his direction from where he sits.
He laughs awkwardly and says, "Point taken young lady. You won't be doing any yoga in the park in that. You might as well be nude if you're wearing that!"
I laugh and say, "Ooo, naked yoga in the park would be even more fun!"
Dad looks at me sternly as I stand up. We then hear Mom yelling from the other room.
"Hello! Did you guys leave?"
Dad looks at me and says, "No, no! Just giving Raya a hand with something! I'm coming."
I fold my arms over one another as he looks at me and says, "I'll do a final tally and send you what it ends up being. Keep an eye out for that transaction to come through."
I smile back at him and say, "Thank youuu! I'm going to look so good in all my new clothes!"
Dad smiles back at me as he walks passed me, opens my door, and says, "Can't wait to see the haul, sweetie!" He then turns the corner and disappears into the hallway.
I stand there for a few seconds feeling so conflicted. What am I feeling? My mind and body are both telling me something, but I know I shouldn't listen. Why does he have all of those pictures of me on his phone? And the ones he took today, so up close and personal. He is definitely going to delete them, isn't he? My body almost has a buzzing vibration as I walk over to the closet to take off the small bikini and place it in the discard pile. As I stand there naked for a second, I see my phone light up over near my bed. I walk over to it and read the message.
"You have received $700 from 'Daddy'. Do you accept?"
I click "Yes," allowing the funds to transfer to my account. I then open my messages and send a text:
"Thank you Daddy :)"