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)
The dining room was alive with chatter as I entered, but a hush fell over the assembled guests at the sight of me. I kept my gaze downward, but I felt their eyes roving over me, enjoying the shameful sight. My face burned with humiliation as I made my way to the kitchen to begin serving.
Greta stood by the stove, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. “Now remember, Andrea,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet, “you’re to serve everyone their meals. You’re not going to eat yourself, as part of your lesson.”
I nodded mutely, my stomach churning with a mixture of hunger and dread.
“Not that you’d want to eat anyway,” Greta continued, her tone turning sympathetic even as her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I know you must be terrified, as you should be before your first real whipping. I doubt you could keep anything down even if you tried.”
The reminder of what awaited me after dinner sent a shiver through my body. I busied myself with arranging the plates, trying to ignore the way my hands shook.
As I carried the first round of dishes to the table, I could feel the heat of multiple gazes on my skin. The tiny apron did so little to preserve my modesty that I felt certain it actually drew more attention to the parts of me it barely covered.
Devin sat at the head of the table, his eyes roaming appreciatively over my form as I set a plate before him. “My, my,” he murmured, loud enough for the others to hear. “Quite the lovely sight, isn’t it?”
Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table. I kept my eyes downcast, focusing on not spilling anything as I continued to serve.
Dylan was seated to Devin’s right, and as I leaned over to place his plate, I felt his warm breath on my neck. “You look beautiful, Andrea,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “Even if you are in trouble.”
I felt his hand on my bottom, holding me possessively just as I remembered Bill had done with Lila my first night there. A shiver ran through me at the frankness of his touch and I had to push down a whimper in my throat. My cheeks burning, I snuck a glance at Dylan’s face, seeing both desire and stern determination in his eyes. My stomach flipped as I remembered that the strong hand on my rear end, the one that had brought me such pleasure last night, would soon wield the horrid strap against my bare bottom.
After I had served everyone their meals, I stood uncertainly by the sideboard, unsure what to do with myself. The chatter around the table resumed, punctuated by the clink of silverware against china. The delicious aromas wafting up from the plates made my empty stomach clench painfully.
“Andrea,” Devin called out suddenly, his voice cutting through the din. “Come here, girl.”
Heart pounding, I made my way to the head of the table where Devin sat. He gestured for me to stand beside him, and I complied, acutely aware of how exposed I was in the flimsy apron.
Devin cleared his throat, and the table fell silent. All eyes turned to us, and I felt my face flame with embarrassment.
“As you all know,” Devin began, his voice carrying easily across the room, “our Andrea here was caught engaging in some very naughty behavior this morning.”
A ripple of knowing chuckles went around the table. I wanted to sink into the floor.
“Despite the generous attentions she received last night,” Devin continued, shooting a pointed look at Dylan, “it seems this little minx couldn’t control her urges. She was discovered this morning, shamelessly pleasuring herself in her bed.”
More laughter erupted, along with a few wolf whistles. I bit my lip hard, fighting back tears of humiliation.
“Such lewd conduct cannot go unpunished,” Devin said sternly. “Therefore, after dinner, Andrea will receive a thorough whipping with the family strap.”
My stomach dropped at his words, even though I had known it was coming. The reality of it, announced so publicly, made me tremble.
“Dylan,” Devin continued, turning to address him directly, “as her suitor and the one who… shall we say, inspired her misbehavior, I believe it’s fitting that you administer the punishment. Do you agree?”
Dylan nodded solemnly, his hazel eyes meeting mine briefly. His gaze held a stern authority—but also, I thought, a compassion that made the corner of my eyes prickle with tears.
“Very well,” Devin said. He turned back to me. “Andrea, remove that apron and go stand in the living room with your hands on your head. You’ll wait there until we’ve finished our meal.”
With shaking hands, I reached for the ties of the tiny apron. As I began to undo them, Dylan suddenly spoke up.
“Devin,” he said, his voice steady, “before Andrea goes, there’s something I’d like to ask, if I may.”