Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I spread my legs wide, bowing them outward in an undignified stance that I knew must make me look like some kind of wanton creature. The position alone made my face burn with shame as I bent forward, stooping to see what I was doing. My breasts hung heavily as I worked the gel into a thick lather through my curls, my fingers moving through the coarse hair that had always been there, that had always been mine—almost the mark of my adulthood, my independence.
The intimacy of it made my breath catch. I was preparing myself for him, making myself bare in a way that felt more exposing than simply being naked. Each stroke of my fingers through the foam sent shivers through me, and to my horror, I felt myself growing wet again—not from the gel, but from arousal so intense it made my hands shake.
I picked up the razor with unsteady fingers and made the first stroke, watching the blonde curls fall away to reveal pale, sensitive skin beneath. The sight made something clench deep in my belly. With each careful stroke, I was transforming myself into what my Herra wanted—smooth, bare, available. The memory of that burning agony in my bottom-hole made me work faster, but also more carefully. I couldn’t risk cutting myself, couldn’t risk disappointing him.
The worst part was reaching between my bottom cheeks. I had to bend even further, one hand spreading myself open while the other carefully navigated the razor through that most private valley. The position was beyond humiliating—if anyone had walked in, they would have seen the prime minister’s wife contorted like a common whore, shaving her ass for a man who wasn’t her husband.
But even that thought sent a pulse of heat through me. The pain Aksel could inflict with that horrible device, the way he’d marked my bottom with his strap, the feeling of his thick cock stretching my pussy—it all meant something I was only beginning to understand. He owned me in a way Takken never had, never could. My body recognized its master even when my mind rebelled.
When I finished, I ran my fingers over the newly smooth skin, checking for any missed spots. The sensation was electric—every nerve ending seemed exposed, hypersensitive. Between my legs, I was slick with more than just water and leftover shaving gel. The folds of my pussy, now completely visible without their protective covering, felt swollen and obvious. I looked down at myself and gasped. Without the hair, I looked shockingly naked, almost obscene. My pussy lips were pink and slightly parted, glistening with unmistakable arousal.
I rinsed quickly, my hands trembling as I patted myself dry with a towel. Six minutes left. I hurried back to the bedroom, the feeling of the air against my newly bare pussy making me gasp. The sensation was delicate but also overwhelming—every movement reminded me of what I’d done, of how exposed I now was.
The silver raven glowed on the phone screen as I picked it up, a new message already waiting.
Good girl. Now kneel on the floor with your back to the mirror. Place the phone on the floor in front of you. Then bend forward and prostrate yourself on your elbows with your thighs wide apart, and look back through your legs at your reflection.
My legs felt weak as I sank to my knees on the plush carpet. I set the phone carefully in front of me, the screen still glowing with that ominous raven. Then, with my heart hammering against my ribs, I bent forward until my elbows pressed against the floor, my bottom raised high in the air. The position alone made me burn with humiliation, but when I lowered my head to look back at the mirror, a cry tore from my throat.
The sight was beyond mortifying. My bare pussy was completely exposed, pink and glistening, the lips slightly parted to reveal the wetness that had gathered there despite—or because of—my shame. The smooth, pale skin where my curls had been looked shockingly vulnerable, almost childlike except for the obvious arousal that made everything swollen and slick. Worse, from this angle I could see between my spread cheeks to where I’d shaved myself completely bare there too, my tiny bottom-hole visible and exposed in a way that made me want to die of embarrassment.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered, unable to look away from the debauched image. This was what my Herra saw—this slut with her bare pussy dripping with need, presented like an animal in heat.
The phone buzzed, and I forced myself to raise my eyes and look down at it, though maintaining the position made my neck ache.
Beautiful. My perfect little bed thrall, smooth and bare for her Herra. Now you must be punished for touching yourself without permission. Reach back and spank your own bottom. Hard. I want to see it turn pink.