Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Go get the nightgown,” Pierre instructed, gesturing toward the bedroom where I’d left the white babydoll laid out on the bed.
I walked slowly and awkwardly with the thong confining my steps, acutely aware of his gaze on my naked body, particularly on my reddened bottom. Each footfall sent a jolt of pain through my punished flesh. The cool air of the apartment brushed against my exposed sex, making me uncomfortably aware of how wet I remained even in light of all the things my brain told me shouldn’t arouse me.
In the bedroom, I found the white babydoll nightgown exactly where I’d left it, spread across the bed like a whisper of fabric against the dark blue comforter. I picked it up with trembling fingers, the delicate material sliding like cool water over my skin. For a moment, I stood frozen, clutching the garment to my chest, my mind racing with the enormity of what was happening.
I’d just been whipped—actually whipped—by a man I barely knew. I’d come under his touch, had sobbed and begged, had called him Monsieur as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And now I was about to put on this revealing nightgown and—my stomach fluttered wildly—take his cock in my mouth.
I should have been running for the door, screaming for help, doing anything but obediently retrieving this scandalous piece of lingerie. Yet here I stood, my punished bottom burning, my virgin pussy wet and aching, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and shameful anticipation.
“Audrey.” Pierre’s voice carried from the living room, impatience evident in his tone. “Don’t make me come get you.”
I hurried back to the living room, the thong still hampering my steps as it stretched between my knees. Pierre had moved to sit on the couch, his long legs stretched out before him, his jacket removed and draped neatly over the arm of the sofa. His white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the top button undone to reveal a glimpse of tanned skin at his throat.
“Bring it here,” he commanded, putting out his hand. “Give it to me.”
I approached slowly, the nightgown clutched in front of me like a shield, though it concealed nothing with its transparent fabric. When I reached the couch, Pierre took the garment from my hands, examining it with casual interest.
“Very pretty,” he commented, running his fingers over the delicate lace trim. “Now, put this on for me. The panties stay around your knees to remind you.”
My cheeks burned as I reached for the nightgown, but Pierre held it just out of my grasp.
“Slowly,” he instructed. “I want to enjoy this moment.”
I stood motionless as his eyes traveled leisurely over my body, lingering again on my small breasts, my flat stomach, the furrow between my thighs where I no longer had the curls that had covered my private parts.
Finally, he handed me the nightgown. With trembling hands, I slipped it over my head, the whisper-soft fabric floating down around my body. It barely reached the tops of my thighs, leaving my punished bottom partially visible, I felt certain.
“Kneel in front of me,” Pierre commanded, his voice low and steady.
I froze, staring at him in sudden panic. The sheer nightgown clung to my body, revealing more than it concealed. My nipples pressed visibly against the delicate fabric, and I knew the transparent material would hide nothing of my freshly waxed sex. The thought of kneeling before him in that already submissive state sent terribly conflicting emotions through me.
I shook my head, taking a small step backward. “I-I can’t,” I whispered.
Pierre’s eyebrows rose slightly, his expression hardening. “Would you prefer another whipping? Perhaps this time with your nightgown raised to your waist so I can see every reaction of your pretty con?”
His words sent a shiver through me. The memory of the martinet’s sting across my tender flesh still felt vividly present, my bottom and thighs burning with the aftermath of his discipline.
“No,” I said quickly, my voice small.
“Then kneel,” he repeated, the command harsher this time.
CHAPTER 15
Audrey
My legs shook as I slowly lowered myself to my knees before him, the carpet soft against my skin. In this position, I felt utterly submissive, to the horror of the rational, independent woman who claimed to be me most of the time. My face was level with a billionaire’s lap, my body bent to his pleasure. The sheer nightgown rode up slightly as I knelt, exposing the lower curves of my punished bottom.
Pierre leaned back slightly, his hands moving to his belt. The sound of the leather sliding through the buckle made my heart race, my mouth suddenly dry with anticipation and fear. His fingers moved to his zipper, lowering it with deliberate slowness. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he reached into his trousers and withdrew his rigid manhood.