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)
“Open your eyes, Audrey,” Pierre commanded softly. “Look at me while I play with your sweet little cunt.”
I forced my eyes open, turning my face to meet his intense gaze. The intimacy of eye contact while his fingers worked between my legs felt somehow even more revealing than my complete nudity. His hazel eyes held mine, refusing to let me hide even in this small way.
“That’s better,” he praised, his fingers dipping lower to tease my entrance. “I want to see your eyes while I teach you your lesson.”
The combination of his penetrating gaze, his skilled fingers, and the knowledge that the Duboises were witnessing my most intimate moments created a raging storm of stimulation in my body. I felt my pleasure building rapidly, my hips beginning to move of their own accord against Pierre’s hand. The pain from the cane welts had transformed into something else—a throbbing heat that somehow enhanced every sensation.
“Please,” I gasped, my need overwhelming my embarrassment. “Please, Monsieur, may I come? I’m so close…”
Pierre’s lips curved into the smile I’d come to both dread and crave. His fingers continued their relentless stimulation as he turned to address his housekeeper.
“What do you think, Aimee? Should I allow her release so soon after her punishment?”
Madame Dubois’ expression softened slightly, a hint of understanding in her warm brown eyes. “I believe I would very much like to see Mademoiselle climax,” I heard her say, her voice carrying a hint of kindness that surprised me. “After such a thorough lesson, she has earned that small mercy.”
As Pierre’s fingers increased their tempo against my sensitive bud, I felt the pleasure cresting. I tried desperately to keep my orgasm small, dignified somehow, but the effort only made it more intense. A violent surge of ecstasy crashed through me, and I cried out, sobbing as Pierre continued to masturbate me through my climax. My body convulsed in his lap, my back arching as the pleasure radiated outward from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.
“Beautiful,” Pierre murmured, his lips against my ear as I shuddered in the aftermath. “Such a lovely little slut.”
Through the haze of my release, I heard Monsieur Dubois clear his throat. “If I may suggest, Monsieur,” he said, his voice formal despite the intimate scene he had just witnessed, “perhaps Mademoiselle should show her gratitude properly for the pleasure you’ve given her.”
Pierre’s hand stilled between my legs. “An excellent suggestion, Etienne. Thank you.”
My heart raced as Pierre helped me rise from his lap. My legs felt weak, still trembling from my powerful climax. He settled back in the chair, his posture relaxed yet commanding as he spread his legs slightly.
“Kneel,” he instructed, pointing to the space between his feet.
I sank to my knees on the carpet, my mind racing with the understanding of what was to come. The position placed me directly in front of him, with the Duboises still watching from their positions nearby. My shame, which had momentarily receded during the heights of pleasure, returned in full force.
“Show the Duboises how well you’re learning to give pleasure with your mouth,” Pierre said, his voice gentle but firm. “Unfasten my trousers and take me between your pretty lips.”
With trembling fingers, I reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly before moving to the button and zipper of his fine wool trousers. I could feel the hard ridge of his erection beneath the fabric, the evidence of his arousal impossible to miss. As I carefully lowered the zipper, his cock sprang free, stiff and imposing.
I glanced up at Pierre’s face, seeking guidance or reassurance. His expression was hungry, but patient, his eyes dark with desire as he watched me prepare to service him. Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.
The taste of him was familiar now—clean skin with a hint of salt—but the circumstances made it feel like the first time all over again. I was acutely aware of the Duboises watching as I slid my lips down his shaft, taking him as deeply as I could manage.
“Use your tongue,” Pierre instructed softly, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head. “Yes, like that. Show how your skills are coming along.”
I struggled to maintain my composure as I worked Pierre’s rigid shaft with my mouth and tongue. The weight of the Duboises’ gaze made every movement, every sound feel magnified. I moved my head up and down, trying to make my mouth soft and yielding, desperate to demonstrate that I was learning to be a good girl, an obedient plaything worthy of my master’s approval.
“She’s very eager,” I heard Monsieur Dubois comment, his voice carrying that same neutral tone even with such an obscene tableau before him.
“Indeed,” Pierre replied, his fingers tangling in my hair. “But still learning proper technique.”