Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I nodded mutely, too mortified to speak. The casual way Greta spoke of the men ‘enjoying’ me sent another confusing wave of arousal through my body.
“Alright then,” Greta said briskly. “Into the shower with you. Wash yourself thoroughly—and I mean thoroughly, young lady. Every nook and cranny. Then you may come downstairs. Lydia will instruct you in your housemaid’s duties.”
CHAPTER 13
Andrea
“Andrea, honey, come in here for a minute,” Devin’s voice called from what I now knew was his office. Lydia had showed me how to dust Devin’s bookshelves and how to clean his monitor before I had vacuumed the Persian rug.
I leaned the mop in its bucket against the wall of the hallway and went into the office on nervous feet. Commanded by a casual gesture of Devin’s hand from where he sat at his big oak desk, I went to stand on the rug I had tried to remove every mote of dust from.
My tummy churned with fear just at the sight of the man who had punished me the previous night. I fought the urge to put my hands behind me to cover my bottom, as if I already knew I had a spanking coming, though I had done everything in my power to be a good girl today.
“Hands on your head, girl,” he added, with a frown and a note of reproach, as if I should have known to assume that posture immediately. Then he nodded, and smiled, as if he had remembered that I had only just arrived in his household. “That’s alright, honey. You’re doing so well that I almost forgot you’re still learning the rules. When I call you in here, you put your hands on your head to show you understand your subservience.”
I swallowed hard. My hands had clenched into little fists. I started to raise them, fighting what felt like every instinct in my body to comply with Devin’s instructions. The intertwining of compassion and utter authority I heard in his voice sent waves of mixed-up emotion and, worse, sensation through my body. The warmth in my cheeks as I completed the movement, and I felt how the posture did indeed make me feel subservient, was just about the easiest part to deal with.
I tried to find something to look at other than Devin’s pleasant but evaluating expression. My eyes were drawn to the massive desk. Its polished surface gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, reflecting the warm glow of the antique desk lamp that sat at its corner. Amid the carefully arranged stacks of papers and leather-bound ledgers, a flat, rectangular box caught my attention.
Its smooth, matte black surface bore the distinctive logo of Selecta New Modesty—the stylized red ‘S’ intertwined with the ‘NM’ in elegant silver script. The sight of it made my heart race with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
Devin followed my gaze, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, the rich material squeaking under his weight as he shifted. “I see you’ve noticed our little package from the New Modesty Authority,” he said, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room.
My throat suddenly felt terribly dry. “Yes, sir,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.
Devin’s chilly blue eyes seemed to see right through me. “Greta’s been keeping me informed about your… progress,” he continued, his tone casual but laden with meaning. “She tells me you’ve been having some trouble with wayward hands.”
My face flamed hot at his words, the memory of my fumbling attempts at self-pleasure that morning rushing back. Had Greta known? Had she seen something when she came to wake me? The thought made me want to sink through the floor.
“And then there’s the matter of your extreme responsiveness to sexual stimulation,” Devin went on, his voice taking on a more serious note. “I must say, Andrea, what I’m hearing from the New Modesty Authority about you indicates that you’re going to be quite the handful.”
I felt my blush deepen, spreading down my neck and across my chest. My newly shaved pussy tingled with a mixture of shame and unwanted arousal, the fabric of my modest dress suddenly feeling rough against my sensitive skin.
Devin leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as he fixed me with an intense gaze. “Fortunately,” he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice, “the NMA has provided us with something that should help channel that burgeoning sexuality of yours.”
His hand moved to the black box, fingers tracing the silver logo almost reverently. “In here,” he said, “is a little something that will help you learn to control those urges. Something to remind you of your place, and the proper way to behave.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat, a shiver of anticipation—or was it fear?—running down my spine. What could possibly be in that innocuous-looking box that would do all that?