The Billionaire's Daughter

by Maggie Carpenter

  And so it continued. Every dress or outfit or skirt or top Kate paraded in front of him received a thumbs down. After viewing more clothes than he thought one woman could own, she was standing before him in a low cut turquoise tank top and shorts so short they looked to him like thick panties.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t actually wear that in public did you?”

  “Uh - yes,” she replied nervously, “but only once!”

  “How many outfits do you have left in there?” he asked.

  As much as he had been enjoying his own private fashion show it was starting to become tedious. And he was annoyed that she had chosen to keep such outrageous attire. He had thought she would have discarded most of the scandalous stuff when she’d had her initial clean out.

  “A few,” she answered quietly.

  Dante stood up, and favoring his ankle, walked slowly across the room and into the closet.

  “You’ve got more dresses than a dress shop,” he exclaimed, staring at the endless line of clothes hanging from the rods. “This is going to take much longer than I thought. We’ll make a start today and spend two hours a day until we’re finished,” he

  announced, and began pulling dresses and outfits from their hangers, quickly deciding which were allowed and those that would go to charity. She stood by, fighting her desire to argue the point, knowing full well it only end up with one of the wooden coat hangers being slapped against her tender behind and he’d finish the weeding out process regardless.

  “This might work, with a brown turtleneck,” he remarked, holding up a

  brown tweed, pleated skirt. “In fact, this is very nice.”

  “I don’t have a brown turtleneck,” Kate sighed.

  “Not yet,” he answered, “but you will.”

  He continued for a little while longer then stopped, turning to her.

  “I think we need to go into town and find you some nice, conservative, attractive clothes,” he suggested. “No more bare mid-riffs or exposed cleavage.”

  Kate stared at the pile on the floor, realizing they were just as Dante said. Too short, too clingy, too revealing - or just too! Her father had been right as well.

  "What?" he asked, seeing her deep in thought.

  "I actually see your point," she admitted.

  "Really? Kate that’s - well that’s wonderful. And I think once you start wearing clothes that are flattering and stylish instead of just trashy you’ll not only look a thousand times prettier, you’ll feel a thousand times better about yourself.”

  “I think maybe you’re right,” she said, quietly. “It’s weird...”

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking about my father,” she replied honestly.

  “And?” Dante pressed.

  “He was always upset about what I wore,” she said frowning. “The more he complained about my wardrobe the more I wanted to shock him. I don’t know why.”

  “Because you wanted him to stop you,” Dante said, taking her hand. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Someone to put their foot down?”

  “I - uh - I guess. I mean - I think you’re right,” she murmured, feeling a light bulb go off in her head.

  “Of course I’m right. And it appears he finally has,” Dante said. “You know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. He may not know what I’m doing with you, but he is responsible. You do get that don’t you?”

  “I do - I do,” she repeated, looking up at him.

  He pulled her into him and hugged her tightly.

  “I’m very proud of you,” he whispered in her ear. “And your dad will be too.”

  She sighed heavily, and Dante stepped back, looking down at the clothes waiting on the floor.

  “Let’s put these in two separate bags. Dry cleaning and laundry. You can start a wash and then we’ll go into town and drop the other bag at the cleaners.”

  Feeling somewhat emotional, still processing Dante’s words and her own epiphany, they started the job together. When they were finished she lugged the bag with the items to be washed and he carried the heavier one destined for the cleaners. At the bottom of the stairs he left his bag at the door, then taking hers, followed her to the laundry. He watched as she expertly sorted through the different fabrics and colors, then added the appropriate cleaning solutions. As she was piling a load into the large machine Dante moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

  “You’re lovely,” he purred in her ear. “You’ll find that people will treat you with much more respect when you’re dressed like a lady, and even more importantly when you behave like one.”

  Kate leaned back against his chest and breathed in the aroma of his after shave. It smelled strong and masculine, just like him, and she closed her eyes. The feel of his embrace sent sweet sparks of longing through her body, and she could feel her pussy lips swell in anticipation. His hands cupped her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples. She recalled the nipple clamps, the exotic, erotic tingling thrill they had created.

  “Come on,” he said gently, breaking the spell, “time to get moving.”

  She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Let’s stay here,” she suggested, pressing her breasts against him, moving her hips salaciously against his growing member. She could feel his semi-hardness through his jeans and stood on her toes to kiss him. “We could go shopping later - or even tomorrow,” she hummed.

  Dante swallowed. The feel of her nubile young body was almost too much to resist.

  “Are you trying to manipulate me young lady,” he asked, half joking.

  “Who, me?” she giggled. Then turning serious, she added, “I just love being close to you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. Not a peck, not a stomach churning, demanding kiss. But a warm, sultry, soft, loving kiss. His hands instinctively moved up to hold her head gently as the sweet kiss continued. When he pulled back he felt a deep, romantic caring. The sparkling gleam in her eye told him the kiss had created the same intoxicating response in her. Both slightly breathless their eyes locked, then he pulled her into him and she buried her head in his shoulder.

  Dante was at a loss for words. His heart was hammering. Something was happening. Something he had not anticipated. He was falling in love with her. Admitting it to himself allowed him to break the spell. He moved his hands down past her waist and clutched her perky backside.

  “If you tempt me anymore I’ll have to punish you for trying to change my plans,” he threatened softly. “Keep trying to lure me into bed and you’ll end up over my knee.”

  Kate pulled back and studied his face. His kiss had been different. It was warm and gentle, filled with a heavy, loving warmth.

  “Let’s get the rest of this stuff in the machine,” he said, softly, recognizing the emotion in her face.

  Swallowing hard, she turned her attention to the remaining clothes, and with Dante’s help it only took a minute to finished the chore, and start the machine.

  “I’m going to clean up and change,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the laundry room. “Why don’t you do the same. Put on something you know I’d like.”

  They were nearing the hallway to his room, and throwing caution to the wind threw her arms around his neck.

  “Dante,” she breathed, “I - um ... “ her voice trailed off. She couldn’t find the words to express what she was feeling. How could she. She wasn’t even sure herself.

  “I know, Kate,” he crooned, then hugging her he added, “You go get changed now. I’ll see you at the front door when you’re ready.”

  Eyes twinkling she gave him a last, longing look and scooted away. As she trotted up the stairs she decided to wear just a smidgeon of makeup, jeans and boots, and a warm, loose fitting cashmere sweater.

  Dante was in his bathroom staring at his reflection in the mirror. He had dated many girls in college and the years that followed. A couple he care
d for very much. But his thoughts were never far from Kate. Whenever he was at the estate he would seek her out, and one time in particular was burned into his memory.

  Cecil had told him she was at the barn so he had wandered down to see her. As he approached he could hear her fighting with her horse trainer, telling the perplexed woman that she had no business being a horse trainer because she didn’t know what she was doing.

  He had run across the vast expanse of lawn to intercede but Kate had stomped off before he could get there. He had watched her march up to the house, her shapely behind perfectly outlined in her tight riding breeches, her long hair being tossed around by the wind. She was carrying a crop, and all he wanted to do was run as fast as he could to catch her, rip the whip from her hand and bend her across a fence, any fence, and tan her backside.

  You’ve never stopped thinking about her, you idiot, he said out loud. What did you think would happen when you started this?

  He took a deep breath. He was shaken. Throwing cold water on his face he changed quickly into a pair of khaki slacks and a black, v-neck sweater, and grabbing his black leather jacket, headed to the front door.

  He waited for a few minutes but there was no sign of her coming down the stairs, so he made his way to the garage where the Jaguar was waiting, keys in the ignition, and brought it to the front of the house. He had just finished loading the bag of dry cleaning when she appeared.

  She was a vision.

  Her long brunette auburn hair was pulled back in a pony tail, highlighting the beauty of her high cheek bones and perfect features. She was wearing a black shirt, but only the collar was showing, peeking up from the charcoal grey sweater. She was in jeans but they weren’t faded and ripped up. They were dark blue, looked cleaned and pressed and weren’t indecently tight. On her feet were a pair of black cowboy boots, but under the jeans, not over them as was her habit.

  She walked down the steps to the car, and as she approached he noticed there was barely a hint of mascara on her lashes, and just a dab of blue eyeshadow, and a splash of wet pink graced her lovely lips.

  “You have never looked lovelier,” he smiled, as she approached. “I mean it Kate, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

  He closed the trunk on the bag of cleaning and moved quickly to open the car door for her.

  “Thank you kind, Sir,” she giggled. He had been right. She felt so much prettier with her light makeup and conservative clothes.

  He was grateful that his ankle was well enough to allow him to drive, and he pulled out on to Protrero Road, the main street that would take them in to Westlake Village, just a five minute drive. The area boasted a number of high end boutiques as well an outdoor shopping mall called The Promenade.

  The mall was relatively quiet. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week so they didn’t have to deal with hordes of people. Dante’s ankle was doing well and he hoped it would hold up for their little shopping spree. They wandered down the sidewalk and Dante led her into some stores that offered the conservative clothes he had in mind.

  An hour later, after having purchased several items, Kate began complaining. She was tired, her feet hurt and she needed a break. Dante could understand and suggested they take the packages back to the car and head to the small french bakery for some coffee and bite to eat. They made their way across to their car and Dante loaded the boxes and bags into the trunk, then took her hand to head to the small cafe.

  “Dante,” she whimpered, “I’ve had enough. I want to go home.”

  Dante looked back at her. Her voice was whiny and a deep frown was creasing her forehead.

  “We’re almost finished,” he replied. “I’m sure another hour will see us done. A couple pairs of slacks and a simple black dress and we’ll leave.”

  Kate shifted from foot to foot. She’d had fun in the first few shops but then it began to get tedious. And she was thirsty and hungry.

  “I’m tired,” she answered. “I don’t want to do anymore. I want coffee but I want it at home. And I’m hungry,” she finished, staring at him defiantly.

  “Uh - I believe I just told you I understood, and we are going over there - just a short walk - to have a sit down. We’ll both have some coffee and a snack,” he replied, keeping his voice even.

  Kate was aggravated and felt out of sorts. Another hour? She didn’t want to shop for another hour.

  “No,” she said shortly. “No. I told you, I’ve had enough and I want to go home,” she exclaimed, raising her voice.

  Dante considered the situation. He didn’t want the shopping to be torture, but at the same time he didn’t appreciate her tone or her attitude. She was behaving like a 10 year old, her frustration once again getting the best of her.

  “Kate - are you sure you want to use that tone?” he asked, giving her a chance to make amends.

  “What tone? I don’t know what you mean,” she said, angrily. “All I said was, I’ve had enough and I want to leave.”

  For a few precious minutes she’d forgotten. The quick tempered little girl had unexpectedly resurfaced.

  “Uh - ssorry,“ she stammered, suddenly realizing what she had just done. “I just feel tired and cranky,” she replied, not sure what she could say to save herself - or her bottom - that was now in clear and present danger of being turned a very bright red.

  “Why don’t we take it from the top,” he said calmly, moving towards her. “I’ve just put the packages in the trunk of the car,” he continued, looking quickly around the parking area. He saw no-one in the immediate vicinity. Taking her wrists and turning her around he bent her over the back of the vehicle. “You’re feeling a bit weary. Too weary in fact to keep shopping.”

  His hand moved across her beautifully presented backside. The blue jeans molded her shape, hugging her curves. He raised his hand and let it fly on her right cheek.

  “Ow,’ she cried. “Dante - please - we’re in public,” she protested.

  Again his hand rose and fell on the same spot.

  “So what do you think you might had said or done differently?” he asked, ignoring her plea and smacking her again.

  “Sorry, Sir. I wasn’t thinking,” she replied, turning her head to look at him, begging him with her eyes to stop.

  “Try again,” he said, calmly, smacking her once more. “I’ve just put the packages in the trunk and you’d like to let me know that you’re too tired to continue. What do you think you should say?”

  Kate winced as his hand struck again.

  “Dante, do you think it would be ok to finish now? I’m feeling really worn out,” she whimpered.

  “Much better,” Dante remarked, moving his hand to her opposite cheek and landing a hard slap.

  “And I would have said, are you sure you can’t manage another hour?” he informed her, smacking again, still keeping his eye out for curious onlookers. “To which you would have replied?”

  “I’d rather not, but if you really think we should,” she answered, wincing as his hand bounced back to the first cheek.

  “And I would have opened the car door for you and taken you home. See how it works? Politeness and manners, Kate,” he finished, as his hand continued smacking, moving from cheek to cheek. “And I believe we had a recent discussion about communication?” he continued. “You were going to tell me - nicely - if you were feeling frustrated were you not?”

  “Yes, sir,” she cried. “I’m sorry. I forgot,” she confessed.

  She began to squirm and he guessed her pretty little ass was now smarting keenly. There was still no-one in sight but he didn’t want to push his luck.

  “Stand up,” he said sternly.

  Sheepishly Kate rose from the car and placed her hands on her stinging backside.

  “What do you have to say for yourself,” Dante asked quietly.

  “I’m very sorry, Sir,” she answered.

  “You were rude and demanding,” he said. “I should really put you over my knee in the back seat of the car and pull your j
eans down. Let my hand work on your naked skin for a few minutes,” he scolded.

  “I’m really sorry. It’s so hard sometimes,” she moaned.

  “I know,” he sighed, and he really did. A lifetime of behavior could not be completely cured in a few weeks. She was trying, and she’d done really well. He couldn’t expect her to be perfect all the time. But she did have to understand civility.

  “How do you feel now? Are you ready to have something to eat and then continue shopping or do you still want to go home?”

  To her surprise Kate realized the short, quick spanking had somehow energized her.

  “I think I’d like to continue,” she answered quietly, looking up at him. “I mean, really. I’m not just saying that.”

  Dante smiled. There was a sparkle in her eyes and he had no doubt there was a warm moistness growing between her legs. Almost to confirm his belief she shifted from foot to foot rubbing her thighs together.

  “Then let’s go. I’m dying for a cup of coffee,” he said, taking her hand.

  Leading her back to the mall he crossed the parking area to the intimate french cafe. Kate’s jeans were scratchy against her skin and she was wearing a thong so her bottom had no protection from the denim. Dante gestured to a table and moved off to get them something to eat. She sat down gingerly and wondered if the few people around her could see the flush across her face. Her bottom cheeks weren’t the only ones that were red.

  Dante returned quickly. There was no line and he had bought them large vegetarian quiche and a pastry dessert to share, and each of them a cup of coffee. They ate hungrily though Kate squirmed restlessly on her chair. Dante noticed but chose not to say anything. He knew her bottom was smarting and had to keep moving for comfort. Inwardly he smiled. The young woman would learn manners one way or the other.

  The rest of the shopping went smoothly and he found all the items he’d been seeking, the last of which was a simple black dress with a round neck and long sleeves. It was tailored, which flattered her luscious shape, but it was modest and elegant. When she studied her reflection in the tall dressing room mirror, even Kate had to admit it was quite a transformation.