Stacy wakes up from a deep sleep. Her soft, milky skin glows in the early sunlight. She sits up and moves her long, dark hair behind her ears. She quickly becomes aware of her young body. She runs her fingers slowly down her strong thighs and slender legs. Her panties feel warm against her supple bum.

Life seems different this morning. Stacy no longer lives in the same world she did yesterday. At least, that's how it feels.

~~~

Stacy has breakfast and checks her phone.

------
212 Chestnut crescent. 11:30am.
Please don't be late. And remember to wear your new outfit.
Be prepared to work if your interview goes well.
She might need you to start working right away.

~Miss Cara
------

Ugh. I'm nervous already. I hate being nervous like this.

She googles the address.

Huh, it's in a residential area. Am I not going to an office? This is going to be an interesting day... 

Stacy checks the time. It's 9:00am.

At least I don't have to rush.

~~~

Stacy runs wildly through the network of forest paths near her house. Jogging got Stacy through her most of her stressful college years.

Every pounding step shakes her legs and relaxes her nerves. The burning in her lungs and limbs feels almost delicious.

It's almost a relief not to feel aroused for once.

In the back of Stacy's mind, Miss Cara hangs in her thoughts; scantily clad and wet.

~~~

Stacy gets home and takes off her running clothes. She stands in her panties as she goes through her closet. She pulls out the fancy new outfit and lays it on the bed.

How can they seriously charge all that money for a thin, little skirt and a blouse?

Stacy pulls down her panties, still damp from her workout and goes to put them in her dirty laundry basket. But, she holds them there in her hand for a moment.

Images of yesterday flash into her consciousness. The way Miss Cara made her feel so horny and helpless. Immediately, her pussy betrays her and begins to ache with need.

Mmm…

She moves her hand down between her legs, intent on satisfying the warm, tingling urges coming from within.

Oh, damnit. 

Stacy freezes with anxiety as she remembers her deal with Miss Cara.

I can't touch myself...

The thought is crippling as she trembles, naked in her bedroom.

Oh god. Knowing I can't, makes me want it so much more.

Her hand hovers an inch from her hopeful lips, fingers poised to caress her clit.

She's going to ask you, Stacy. She's going to ask you and she'll know you're lying to her.

Stacy whimpers weakly as she fights with herself. Her clit hums with need, pleading to be touched.

You can't touch yourself! Control yourself, for Becca.

"Fuck..."

Stacy forces herself into the shower. She makes the water much colder than she normally would.

~~~

Stacy takes a cab to the address. The place is even nicer than she had expected. The house is mostly dark wood and rich, red brick. A stone walkway leads her to the front door.

She can feel her nerves making her stomach churn. It's uncomfortably distracting and makes her worry about knocking.

Come on Stacy. This job could be way better. If it's not, then you lose nothing anyways.

She knocks on the thick, wooden door.

Ugh.

Stacy squirms in her black flats, her naked toes fidget inside.

The sound of tall heels comes toward the door from the other side. Stacy holds her breath. The door opens.

Miss Cara!? Ugh! Of course it's her! How am I this naive?

Cara watches Stacy's face change with her fluctuating emotions. She seems to take some delight in this.

"You're on time, I like that. Would you like to come inside, dear?" Cara asks, politely.

The nervous energy bubbling in Stacy's stomach, begins evolving into a malicious sense of arousal. She feels embarrassed and vulnerable. Her body is telling her to be excited, but she knows she should be worried.

Stacy bows her head slightly and enters the house. She immediately notices the marble foyer entrance, which turns into a beautiful, dark, hardwood floor.

Cara notices the slight look of betrayal Stacy wears on her face.

"I'm sorry. Did I not mention I'd be the one employing you?" She giggles. "How on Earth did I forget to mention that? Please forgive my silly neglect."

Stacy doesn't know how to react. She's clearly being used or manipulated by Cara, but isn't completely sure why.

"Why do you want me working for you? Is there actually even a real job?" Stacy demands, a little pissed off.

Don't talk to Miss Cara like that. What are you doing? Don't make her upset with you!

Cara smiles. "I assure you the job is real. I needed to hire someone, and I figured, you could use the help. Plus, the more I get to know you, the sooner I'll trust you with my Becca. Hmm?"

Stacy feels herself drawn into the situation. Her body relaxes just a little as Cara explains things to her. The woman's voice has that effect.

"Your resumé?" Cara requests, holding out her hand.

Huh? Oh! Right.

Stacy opens her bag and pulls out a nice folder with a freshly printed resume inside. She hands it over.

"Great. Let me show you to the office. We'll have a little chat."

Stacy takes a step forward, but Cara clears her throat.

"You can leave your shoes at the door," she adds.

But, she's still wearing her heels...

Stacy feels it's not worth putting up resistance on this and takes off her flats.

The marble and hardwood floors feel cold on Stacy's bare feet as Cara leads her down a long hallway.

Cara's tall, black heels, clack ominously and make her almost a foot taller than Stacy now. She wears a low-cut, white blouse that seems to hang from her elegantly, while still accentuating her gorgeous form. A tight, grey pencil skirt wraps around Cara's high waist and splits at the bottom. Stacy tries not to stare as Cara gracefully floats in front of her.

They enter a nice office suite at the end of the hall. It's warm and welcoming inside with soft lighting and an even softer carpet. There's a large desk in the middle of the room with chairs on either side. One of them is a luxurious looking, padded office chair, the other looks like something you'd find in a school, bare and rigid.

"Please, have a seat Stacy," Cara sings, offering her the stiff, wooden chair.

Stacy sits her bum down on it hesitantly. It's as uncomfortable as it looks.

Cara reclines in her leather seat across the table from Stacy and studies the resumé. Stacy waits anxiously for Cara to say something.

What is she doing? Does she just enjoy making me wait for her? 

She knows the answer to this.

Cara puts the paper down and crosses her nylon covered legs. Stacy can see a garter suspender peeking out from under Cara's skirt. The thought of what's up under that powerful woman's outfit makes Stacy tingle with arousal.

"Honestly, I trust you're qualified and that you'd do a good job. I don't think I need to conduct a formal interview. We'll just learn a little about each other as we go. Hmm?" Cara posits, seeming very friendly.

"Alright," Stacy accepts, guardedly.

"The job is yours, if you want it," Cara offers.

"What exactly does the job entail?"

"I told you yesterday. I need an office and personal assistant. You see, I'm quite behind in a lot of my paperwork from the past few years and I have to admit, it's not my strong suit. Why don't we just do a trial day today. I'll let you get the feel for it, and we'll go from there, hmm?"

"Okay. That sounds good. What would like me to get started on?"

~~~

Stacy sits on her uncomfortable chair staring at a couple of stacks of paper. Her thin, fashionable skirt affords barely any padding for her soft bum, which is already getting sore. She thumbs page by page, recording the dates and amounts of each file onto a tracking sheet.

Cara sits across from her, still somewhat reclining, reading over a thick booklet of notes. Every once in a while she groans slightly or hums with surprised delight. Stacy can smell her perfume. It's faint, but very powerful, like the scent of someone you miss on a piece of clothing.

An hour or so goes by and Stacy has barely made a dent in the stack of papers she needs to go through. She can feel her little bum beginning to annoy her with with a dull, consistent ache.

Focus Stacy. At least you get to sit down at this job. And, well, you get to look at…

Stacy's eyes wander across the table, subtly admiring Cara's beautiful face and breasts. The woman wiggles her lip between her teeth as she reads. Her mouth looks so lush and feminine. Her large eyes focus intently on the page as her fingers gently caress the glowing skin near her collarbone.

Cara suddenly looks up to see Stacy watching her.

Fuck!

Stacy diverts her eyes and pretends she's stretching her neck. Cara knows Stacy was watching her. She giggles quietly to herself.

What are you doing? You're being stupid. All you have to do is just this normal, easy work. You'll get paid, impress Cara and get to date Becca soon.

Cara sighs as she shifts positions, clearly tiring slightly herself. She leans forward and removes her heels. She moans with a sense of relief, then reclines her chair and puts her stocking feet up on the desk.

Stacy can't help but notice the gorgeous woman's toes through the thin, dark material. They look pink and elegant, but convey an intense sexuality to Stacy's innocent eyes.

"Would you be a dear," Cara begins, not looking up from her work, "and just rub my feet for me?"

What? That doesn't seem…

"I find it so hard to focus when I'm not comfortable."

You're the one in the soft chair!

Stacy can't decide how to react. She feels incredibly weary of upsetting Miss Cara in any significant way. Unfortunately, she's not very good at knowing what will or won't do this, yet.

Cara senses Stacy's hesitation and tries to quash it.

"Unless you'd prefer to keep doing that paperwork?"

Stacy can smell the aroma from Cara's beautiful feet. She finds it hauntingly alluring to have the faint odour of sweat and femininity filling her nose.

Stacy feels her mouth begin to water. Suddenly, all she can think about is Cara's tight nylons. They beg to be touched as they sit within Stacy's reach.

Almost, uncontrollably, Stacy leans forward and wraps her hands around Cara's warm, elegant feet.

"Ohh, yes. Thanks, dear," Cara groans, seeming to get great pleasure from the sensation. She scoots down a little further in her chair, bringing her feet closer to Stacy. She continues to read the thick stack of papers in her hand.

Stacy tightens her grip on the woman's foot. She presses her young fingers into Cara's soft soles. She can't ignore how turned on she's getting from this. Her little pussy is tingling warmly between her thighs. Stacy can feel it becoming incredibly tight as she tries to relax herself, but the aroma from the nylons is preventing her from thinking about anything else.

Stacy's thumbs slowly push up and down over the tender, stocking-covered skin. Each time she finds a new sensitive area, Cara purrs and moans with enjoyment. Each one of these audible emissions makes Stacy feel tighter and wetter.

Oh god. She's so beautiful, she's so sexy. I'm being paid to rub her feet!? I'm being paid to sit in this damn uncomfortable chair and be horny?

Stacy isn't sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. She moves her hands to the other foot, using her delicate fingers to rub each one of Cara's toes. They feel incredibly erotic underneath the thin, sexy fabric. Stacy's pussy begins to throb quietly, urging her to give it some attention.

Is she just going to keep letting me do this? Is she going to turn this into some sort of sex initiation? Is she going to finger me again?

Stacy can feel her whole body tense up with extreme arousal at this thought. She feels almost light headed as her breathing intensifies.

Does she want me to say anything to her? She looks so focused on her work. Is she messing with me or is she serious?

A deep worry grows inside of her. She doesn't want to do anything to upset her new employer, who holds the keys not only to her job but her girlfriend. She decides to keep slowly, affectionately rubbing Miss Cara's feet. Their tender tissue is as soft as it is sensuous.

She's not even paying attention to me! Is this normal for her? Does she think I find this a normal thing? She still seems completely focused on her work. I don't understand. She's been so normal and professional with me since I arrived… besides this foot massage. This is such a fucked up, confusing situation.

The feet bend and react to Stacy's touch. She can feel Cara's toes wiggle slightly between her fingers. Their delicious scent penetrates her nose and fills her head with desire. She can't help but imagine the other night at the bar, when these feet were pressing up against her naughty, hungry, wet pussy.

Oh fuck… I can't. I can't do this. What if… what if I just started touching myself? No, that's totally inappropriate. Is it? Oh god I want to. No, she'd fire you. Would she?

Stacy's young, tight pussy throbs warmly beneath her skirt. She can feel it emanating heat against her thighs. She thinks about subtly moving her fingers down her waistband to relieve some of the tension boiling inside her.

No. You can't. She made you promise not to touch yourself, remember? Oh fuck!

"Thank you dear, that was lovely," Cara compliments, pulling her feet from the desk.

Stacy sits motionless, paralyzed waiting for whatever's to come next.

Cara seems relaxed, but her eyes remain fixed on the page. She furrows a brow at something she's reading.

What the hell? Is she doing all of this just to mess with me? Probably…

"Stacy?" Cara's voice calls, interrupting Stacy from her contemplation.

"Umm, yes? Sorry, what is it?" Stacy fumbles, trying to disguise her distractedness.

"I will need you to get back to those files now. They're kind of at the top of my priorities list," Cara explains, very business-like. Her voice totally devoid of any real affection.

Stacy feels betrayed. She slowly bows her head and sees how much boring paperwork remains to be done. Hesitantly, she picks her pen back up and starts recording information.

~~~

Another half hour or so goes by. To Stacy, it feels almost like a day. Her pussy is still wound up and contracting tightly every few seconds to remind her of its needs. Sitting in this rigid, unforgiving chair with the most gorgeous, confident, mysterious woman across from her, makes Stacy crazy.

Miss Cara puts down her heavy notebook and closes it. She rubs her eyes and sighs gently.

Break time?

Stacy tries not to get her hopes up, but she doesn't know how much longer she can stand to focus on this mundane work. Her swollen, greedy insides refuse to let her relax.

Cara doesn't even look at Stacy though as she inspects the room briefly, before unzipping the side of her skirt.

What is she doing?

Stacy can feel herself almost shaking as she watches Miss Cara loosen her skirt. Anxiety and excitement course through her nerves.

Cara keeps her skirt on, but pulls it down her waist just slightly, revealing the top of her garter belt. She closes her eyes as her left hand wanders across her plump breasts. She moans with relaxed enjoyment as she gives them both a tender squeeze.

Stacy drops her pen on the desk and it rolls onto the floor. Miss Cara's eyes shoot open, almost disturbed.

"Be careful, Stacy. You startled me."

Miss Cara's eyes close again as her right hand slides down under the top of her skirt.

I don't understand what's happening. What does she want me to do? Does she expect me to just sit here while she does this?

Among other things, Stacy feels an intense jealousy as she watches Cara's hand move slowly under her skirt. Miss Cara's face looks full of happiness and true enjoyment as she plays with her large breasts and presumably perfect pussy.

Stacy swears she's able to smell Cara's arousal from across the table. It tantalizes her vagina as it becomes thoroughly moist between her legs. Stacy's wearing a cotton, white g-string to hide her panty line under her skirt. She can feel the thin material becoming damp as she watches the woman across from her, almost in a trance.

I'll just put my fingers down my skirt. She can't see me. She won't know.

Stacy licks her lips unconsciously as her hand drops under the desk and onto her lap.

Cara spreads her legs, unknowingly giving Stacy a detailed look at the black panties she's wearing under her skirt. They match her garter belt.

Stacy becomes transfixed between the woman's legs. She can just make out Miss Cara's slender, strong fingers moving up and down underneath the translucent panties.

Stacy's hand reaches for the button on the side of her skirt. She can feel her slit drooling as it tingles excitedly.

I'll just… no! No you can't. She'll know. She'll catch you. Don't give her another reason to withhold Becca from you.

Stacy almost whines out loud as she fights with her desperate body.

She curls her toes under her feet, madly trying to quell the heat and pressure bellowing inside her cunt.

"Please try to focus on document filing and recording, it needs to get done this week," Cara scolds, staring right at Stacy. She continues to squeeze her breast and pleasure herself below her skirt. She maintains firm eye contact with Stacy. "You seem to be losing focus. I don't remember seeing 'easily distracted' on your resumé."

What the? I don't... what does she want from me?

Stacy, almost in shock, slowly bends down and picks her pen up off the floor. She can't help but feel embarrassed, almost censured by Miss Cara's rejection. She attempts to get comfortable in her rigid seat and puts pen back to paper.

"I'd like it if you could try to be professional when you're in my office," Cara moans, her eyes closed. She rocks her hips harder into her hand now.

I feel like I'm being punished. What did I do?

"But, you are–" Stacy mutters before being interrupted.

"I'm in my own office. I'm going to behave the way I normally do, whether you're here or not. If you have a problem with that, perhaps this job isn't for you."

Stacy's face feels hot and her vagina aches, even more than her sore bum. She diligently tries to focus on her work, writing down every important number she comes across in a hurry.

Cara begins to moan with an ever increasing fervour. She puts one of her stocking-feet up against the heavy wooden desk.

Stacy watches the woman's beautiful toes curl with ecstasy as she's forced to complete boring paperwork. Her swollen bead pulses with a maddening urgency. She tries desperately to ignore it and focus on her work, but Cara's squeaks and blissful noises torture her resolve.

Oh fuck make her stop. I can't handle this any longer.

Stacy's eyes peer up from the stack of papers to see Cara's legs spread widely. The woman's hand is hidden inside her black lingerie under her skirt. But Stacy can see Cara's fingers disappearing inside the woman's delicious canal.

Cara's other foot stretches up onto the desk as she pushes back in her chair. With this extra leverage, she manages to delve her fingers deeper inside her and finally reach her puffy, inflamed g-spot. She jumps with electrified excitement as her nerves reward her with intense pleasure.

Stacy bites her lip, hard. She crosses her legs, desperately trying to rub her clit in any way possible. The sensation is incredibly frustrating. Her tight pussy throbs and pleads to be given the same treatment Miss Cara's is.

Cara's breathing quickens. She is almost panting as she works her fingers deeply inside her, rhythmically pumping pleasure into her cunt.

Stacy can smell the woman's arousal, it fills the room.

Why can't she be doing this to me!? She knows she's torturing me. She hates me for wanting to take Becca from her!

Cara stops panting, but her fingers work harder. She stops breathing altogether as her ass lifts from her chair, seemingly possessed by some powerful sensation filling her whole body.

Stacy feels herself becoming overwhelmed by Cara's sexuality. All she can think about is pleasing this woman, making her happy, not upsetting her, despite the terrible urgings of her own body. Stacy watches Miss Cara's lips tremble as the woman falls over the crest of her orgasm.

Cara shrieks a loud moan. It's intensely sensual and alluring.

Stacy feels her pussy's heat condense wetly on her panties. She imagines Becca's fingers spreading her lips open and plunging inside.

Oh god Becca, I miss you…

Cara's body shakes as she writhes violently in her leather chair. Her incredibly expensive business attire hangs gorgeously from her freshly satisfied body.

I can't give up. I would do anything to be with Becca. That's why I'm still here. And I'll be happy to take Cara's money while I'm at it.

Cara pulls her feet from the desk as she slowly returns to reality. She wears a very pleased look on her face and puts her heels back on.

Stacy pretends to still be paying complete attention to the banal information on the desk.

Cara fixes her hair, but barely needs to adjust anything. Despite her animalistic behaviour, she remains immaculate. She lets out a long, satisfied sigh. Stacy can't help but think it's directed at her in an attempt to make her even more jealous.

"I see you've made a little progress. I hope you're not making any mistakes. We can't have that," Cara informs, almost cruelly. "However, it is just your first day, so I'll give you some leeway."

Stacy is too chocked up with frustration, anger and desire to speak. She just gives a humbled nod.

Miss Cara lifts the bottom of her skirt slightly and pulls down her black, nylon panties.

"I'm going to go change my panties. I've gotten these ones uncomfortably wet," she says, lifting the damp underwear off from around her high heel.

This is so unfair! Humiliating! Wrong!

"Please, finish that small stack you're working on, and then go upstairs. First door on the left. I've left a list of a few items I need taken care of," Cara explains, somehow still seeming professional. "Thanks, dear, keep up the good work."

Stacy watches, dejected as the gorgeous woman leaves the office.

Just touch yourself. Quickly, just rub your clit. Just a little! Please! No! 

Stacy's bare feet feel a little cold as they rub themselves together above the carpet. Her legs are crossed, but she can feel the cool air tantalizing the dampness of her crotch.

Please! She won't know, she's not here. No! We're going to behave. We're going to control ourselves. For Becca!

Stacy grips the pen tightly in her hand and gets back to work. She notices her lip, still firmly clenched between her teeth. It's almost raw.

~~~

After an hour, Stacy finishes the small stack of work she was given. She stands up out of her terrible chair and stretches her arms out. Everything feels sore and tired, except her young, aching femininity, which simmers inside her with an endless growing appetite.

~~~

Stacy climbs to the top of the stairs. There are a few doors along the dim hallway, all of them shut. She opens the first one on the left.

This is… her bedroom!

A beautiful, four post, king-sized bed, with a dark, red canopy hanging partially around it. The sheets are disheveled, but it barely impacts the look of the room.

This is gorgeous.

Stacy should be clamouring for lunch right now, but has forgotten about her hunger. It barely registers on her radar compared to the intense sexual pangs she's laden with.

Scanning the room, she notices a note on the nightstand next to the bed. She reads it:

------
Stacy,

Please take care of a few things for me. As my personal assistant, I'm going to need you to do a little more than strictly office work sometimes.
------

I knew this was coming. What kind of depraved sexual act is she going to submit me to?

------
1. Make the bed. Careful to change the pillow cases and tuck the covers in on all sides equally.

2. Take care of the laundry in my hamper. It should just be one load. The machine downstairs is fairly standard, I trust you to be able to figure it out.

When you've got the laundry started, meet me in the office.

~Cara
------

Make her bed? Do her laundry? I'm not going to be her maid!

Stacy turns to leave the room in a huff, but remembers Becca. The girl's perfect, adorable eyes cut straight to her heart and make her feel sick with emotion.

Miss Cara is trying to humiliate you. If you don't let it bother you, it will impress her. She's probably just testing you. If you quit, you lose the chance at getting Becca anytime soon. The faster Cara realizes she can trust you, the faster you'll have the girl of your dreams back in your arms, free from all of this controlling nonsense!

Stacy takes a deep breath. Her toes gently wiggle against the soft, white carpet.

I can do this.

Stacy gets to work on the bed. She searches the closet for fresh pillowcases and uses them. The slept-in bedding smells like Miss Cara's sumptuous body. The woman's essence is inescapably palpable.

She finishes making the bed and checks the task off her list with a small sense of pride.

Now, for the laundry. 

Stacy briefly searches the room for Miss Cara's hamper. She finds it in the far corner, across from the closet. Stacy bends down to pick it up, but notices the article of clothing on top. Miss Cara's black, nylon panties, the ones she was wearing earlier, downstairs.

What is wrong with me?

Stacy is already on edge, but something about being in this powerful woman's room, looking at her used clothing, has Stacy incredibly excited. Her belly trembles with anxious energy and she thinks about picking up the panties.

I can't touch myself, but, that doesn't mean I can't, just indulge myself a little bit...

Stacy knows it's only going to make her desperate arousal more sharp and agonizing, but she can't help herself. She reaches into the basket and carefully pulls out Cara's recently used underwear. It's damp against her fingertips.

I'm so bad. I've become so fucking naughty. I can't even control myself anymore! What am I doing? 

Barely being able to think straight, Stacy finds herself laying, stomach-down on the bed. Immediately, she feels the slight pressure from the mattress against her swollen folds. The urge to break her promise and fuck herself, grows quickly, as does the moisture in her panties.

Miss Cara...

Stacy holds the nylon garment out at arms length in front of her. She examines it with complete, naively-depraved fascination. Her fingers run along the edges of the material, feeling its soft, luxurious texture. An intense excitement scurries around inside Stacy's belly. The more she plays with the wet material, the more this anxious and pleasurable feeling expands inside her.

Should I smell them?

Stacy inches the panties closer to her face, playing with the taboo idea. Her tight g-string pulls against her puffy lips as she unconsciously thrusts her pelvis into the mattress below her.

Stacy's eyes widen as the black lingerie in her hands is brought within an inch of her face. Her fingertips can still detect just a hint of moisture from Cara's earlier explosion of arousal.

I can't believe this. What am I doing? I'm so weak.

Stacy feels powerless to control her situation. Putting the underwear back is no longer an option. She wants to smell them, taste them. She wants to be surrounded and filled with Miss Cara's erotic passion. Stacy's crotch yearns for attention. The long day of monotonous paperwork, whilst constantly being teased and aroused has pushed her too far. She's in Cara's bed, with the sweet smell of the woman's pussy in her hands. All she can think about is getting off.

Fuck it. Finger yourself Stacy. Just do it. You need it, you deserve it. You've done so well today. Becca would want you to! Cara won't ever know!

She presses her hips down harder as she breathes in Cara's naughty essence. It's deliriously satisfying, but only makes her want more. Stacy's bead throbs between her moist lips.

But if she asks if I did… she'll know I'm lying!

Stacy's nose fills with the gorgeous woman's pheromones. Their effect is immediate as Stacy becomes high from their power. One of her hands moves down to her waist, intent on unbuttoning her skirt. Her young pussy feels incredibly tight and aches to be relieved.

How do you know she'll know? Do you really believe that? She's not a mind reader. She's just trying to scare you.

Stacy holds the panties against her face. Miss Cara's delicious, erotic odour dominates Stacy's senses. The wet material against her nose sends naughty thrills through her horny body.

But if she catches you, she'll know how much she drives you crazy. You'll have no leverage left.

Stacy whimpers to herself. Her hand shakes under her g-string as it waits for permission to enter her pussy. Stacy's open lips graze Cara's bottoms and causes a sharp shiver of forbidden excitement to rush into her cunt.

I need to do this!

Stacy's fingers jump onto the wet lips of her swollen pussy. Her tongue slowly leaves her mouth, hoping to finally taste Miss Cara.

"What are you doing?" Cara's cool, stern voice demands from behind Stacy.

Oh no!. Oh god no!

Stacy lays on the bed, paralyzed, Cara's panties scrunched up in her hand, pressed against her face.

I've screwed it up. I've screwed it all up!

She drops the panties on the floor and stands up.

"I'm really sorry, ma'am… Miss Cara," Stacy professes, noticing her skirt is undone and hanging off her hips. Her fingers frantically try to button it back up.

"I'm not sure this arrangement is going to work out. You clearly have trouble acting in a disciplined, professional manner. Being a bad girl at night and on the weekends is fun, but you're on work time right now. I'm not sure how I feel about having my time and money wasted like this."

Stacy feels incredibly guilty and her face becomes flush. Her lips tremble as she tries to speak. The pain of having Miss Cara disappointed in her is harsher than she could have imagined.

"I wanted to help you with this job, Stacy," Cara continues. "I didn't mean to force you into something you hated."

"I don't hate this job. You were really kind to give me this opportunity. I just… it's so hard to focus on working when you are, nearby. I don't know, just something about being here, in your house. It's so hard to try to keep a level head. I'm sorry."

"Thanks for being honest with me, Stacy," Cara praises, warming slightly. "I appreciate it, I know you're trying."

"I can try harder," Stacy offers, worrying she's losing the argument.

"What does that mean? WIll you always be honest with me?"

"Yes. Yes I will, Miss Cara."

"Will you tell me what you're thinking and feeling before you do something like this again?" Cara questions, her eyes piercing into Stacy's soul.

"I will do my best, Miss Cara. Yes," Stacy promises.

Cara smiles and walks towards Stacy in her tall, elegant heels.

"Did you touch yourself since our talk yesterday?" Cara asks, a stern look of judgement on her face. She gently strokes Stacy's dark hair.

"No, I didn't," Stacy says, looking up into Cara's eyes, trying to garner some respect.

"Why should I believe you? You were about to touch yourself just now." Cara's hand moves from the top of Stacy's head to her face. She slowly traces her thumb over Stacy's lips as her fingers stroke the girl's neck.

"I promise I didn't. I just really wanted to. Last night, this morning, all day today, with the way you were acting in your office, I…" Stacy stops herself, worried she's saying too much. The feeling of Cara's hand on her is making it hard to concentrate.

"Go on, dear. You were saying something about the way I 'acted' in my own personal office," Cara says, leading Stacy down a dangerous path. Her lips curl into a slightly devious grin.

"You made me, well, I felt…" Stacy mumbles, unable to get the right words out.

I'm going to say something wrong. She's going to use it to make things worse for me. To keep Becca from me.

Cara's face changes. Her confident, almost dominant expression disappears and is replaced with an empathetic look. She firmly grips Stacy's chin and tilts it up, urging their eyes to meet.

"Stacy, I know we're still getting to know each other, but I want you to know that I'm someone you can trust with your deepest feelings and desires. I promise I'd never use them to hurt you."

As charismatic as Cara always is, Stacy feels she's being truly genuine in this moment. Something about the way her eyes look and the slight tilt of her head.

"When I saw your panties, I couldn't help myself, Miss. I wanted the pleasure you had. I wanted to be close to you. And I hate feeling that way, but I can't help it. I wanted to know why Becca needs you so much."

Stacy stands in the middle of the room, feeling exposed emotionally and physically.

I wish she'd hug me right now. Just hold me and keep me safe, comfort me.

Miss Cara smiles lovingly. Her eyes give an affectionate nod of approval.

"Come on then, Stacy, forget the laundry for now. I've got some other work for you to get to before you're finished today," Cara urges, returning to her boss persona. She leads Stacy out of her bedroom and into the hallway.

Stacy fixes her skirt and diligently follows Miss Cara down the hall, intent on finishing the day properly. They head to the other end of the hall, opposite the stairs. As Stacy walks, she notices a sign on one of the hallway doors. She stops moving and her face turns white.

"Miss Cara," Stacy murmurs, trembling. "Why does this door say 'Becca' on it?"

Cara turns around and smiles casually.

"Because that's her room, dear. She lives here with me. For over a year now."

This can't be happening...

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Continued in Chapter 8.

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