Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. For the first time I noticed that he had a black bag, like a small gym bag, in his hand.
I turned slowly, my legs trembling as I faced away from him. I heard him approaching, felt his presence behind me like a physical force. His hands moved to my waist, and I heard the soft beep of the belt’s lock disengaging.
“Since you clearly can’t control yourself,” he said, unfastening the clasps with practiced efficiency, “we’ll have to ensure you fully understand the challenge posed by the kind of distraction you seem unable to avoid.”
The leather came away from my privates, and I whimpered at the cool air against my swollen, desperate pussy. But instead of the relief I craved, I heard him unzipping something—the bag he had brought.
“These are the attachments for your belt that I told you about,” he explained. “Bend over. Touch your toes.”
I cast a red-faced glance over my shoulder, thinking for a moment that I might protest this abject humiliation. The expression on Scott’s face told me that whatever I had coming, disobedience now could make it worse. I bit my lip and turned my face forward. With a tiny sob I folded at the waist as if I were assuming an obscene yoga pose.
As soon as my fingertips reached the tops of my shoes, I felt something cold and hard press against the entrance to my vagina. I cried out, tensing against the invasion, beginning to straighten up.
“Down, you little slut,” Scott growled, enforcing the command with a hand on my back. “This is medical-grade silicone, perfectly sized for a naughty girl who can’t follow simple instructions.”
Without further warning, he pushed the dildo inside me. It was thick, ridged, filling me completely, making it impossible to think of anything but its presence, and what it meant—and above all who had put it there. I gasped, my hands gripping the edge of my desk as he seated it fully inside my pussy.
“And this,” he continued, and I felt pressure against my rear entrance, still tender from the night before, “will remind you constantly of who owns every part of you.”
The plug was smaller than the dildo, but still substantial. He worked it in slowly, ignoring my whimpers of protest, until it too was fully seated. I felt impossibly full, stuffed in both holes, unable to escape the constant pressure.
He refastened the belt quickly, the leather now holding both insertions firmly in place. The lock engaged with its familiar beep, sealing my fate. Every tiny movement made the dildo and plug shift inside me, sending sparks through my oversensitive body.
“Tonight,” Scott said, moving around to face me, his eyes dark with promise, “you’ll come to my apartment at eight. You’ll wear the white dress from your first day, nothing else except the belt and what’s inside it. And Grace?” He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I’m going to whip your pussy for this disobedience. Then I’m going to remove that plug and fuck your ass until you understand that your pleasure exists only when I allow it.”
My knees nearly buckled at his words. The thought of having my pussy whipped—like Ruth in the series that had started all this—made me clench around the insertions, which only intensified the maddening fullness.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
“Good. Now sit down and get back to your work. I can tell that despite your distractibility you’re making some important progress. I’m going to sit in on your meeting with Melissa tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 24
Grace
I had no idea how I got through the rest of the day. Every movement sent a surge of sensation through me as the dildo and plug shifted inside my body. The belt held them perfectly in place, ensuring I couldn’t escape the constant fullness, the reminder of my punishment and my master’s control. I tried to focus on the editing software, on crafting Debbie’s psychological journey, but my own psychology kept intruding.
As I worked through the footage, adding layers of meaning to each scene, something strange began to happen. I felt myself floating above my own body, watching myself the way I watched Debbie on screen. There I sat, a young woman clad in a conservative gray dress, but at the same time locked in a chastity belt with both holes filled, editing pornographic content for her dominant boss who would whip her pussy tonight. The sheer degradation of it should have horrified me. Instead, I felt a strange sense of rightness that troubled me almost as much as it soothed me.
This was nothing like what I’d had with Jacob. With him, submission had been a performance, a role I played because it was expected. Part of me had known that I had a deep need to serve the man I loved, but I could see now that Jacob had never been that man, so I’d told myself that I wasn’t really submissive, whatever the New Modesty program thought.