Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Good,” Master Paul said, watching my form with clinical attention. “Now squats.”
He guided me through a series of exercises—squats, lunges, arm curls. With each movement, I felt my body awakening in ways I’d forgotten. The endorphins began to flow, and despite everything, I felt stronger, more alive than I had in months.
“Notice how good your body feels,” Master Paul said as I finished the last set of bicep curls. “This is what happens when you stop fighting against your nature and start working with it. Your body responds to discipline, to structure, to being pushed.”
He was right. The exercise had cleared my head, made me feel centered in a way I hadn’t experienced since before my marriage. My skin glowed with perspiration, and I could feel the pleasant ache of well-used muscles.
“Time to clean up,” he announced, leading me toward the showers.
The shower area was tiled in white, with multiple heads along the walls. Master Paul turned on one of the faucets, testing the water temperature with his hand.
“Go ahead,” he said, stepping back but making no move to leave.
My stomach dropped. “You’re… you’re going to watch?”
“Your body belongs to your husband, Heather. I’m acting on his behalf.” His voice was matter-of-fact, as if this were perfectly reasonable. “Besides, after what happened yesterday, you can’t be trusted alone.”
I stood there frozen, my arms crossed over my chest despite the sports bra. The thought of him watching me shower sent conflicting thrills of shame and arousal through my body.
“I’m waiting,” he said calmly.
With trembling hands, I pulled the sports bra over my head, my breasts spilling free. The cool air made my nipples harden immediately, and I saw Master Paul’s eyes track the movement with professional interest.
I stepped under the spray, the warm water cascading over my skin. I tried to turn away from him, to hide my body, but there was nowhere to go in the open shower. Every movement felt lewd, exposed.
“Wash yourself properly,” he instructed. “All of you.”
I reached for the soap with shaking hands, working up a lather. As I ran my hands over my body, I was hyperaware of his gaze following every movement. When I reached my breasts, he said, “You’re going to show me how you masturbate in the shower at home.”
CHAPTER 13
Heather
My hands froze on my breasts, soap suds dripping down my skin as his words registered. “What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the spray.
“You heard me,” Master Paul said, his voice carrying that same calm authority that had become so distressingly familiar. “Show me exactly how you touched yourself in those morning showers. The ones your home’s monitoring system recorded.”
The humiliation felt overwhelming. Bad enough that they had audio recordings of my private moments, but now this man wanted me to recreate them while he watched. My face burned with shame as I shook my head frantically.
“I can’t,” I gasped. “Please, I can’t do that.”
“I’ve told you to stop being foolish, Heather,” he replied matter-of-factly. “You need to learn obedience. I’ve already spanked you, and I’ll punish you as many times as I have to until you get it. Your husband needs to understand what his wife was doing while he slept peacefully in his bed. He needs to know what you were thinking about, what you were craving. Between your trainers and Ryan, we’ll make sure you see the importance of honesty and attention to your wifely duties.”
My hands trembled as I stood there under the warm spray, water streaming down my naked body. The memory my morning sessions flooded back—the desperate need that would drive me to the shower before Ryan woke up, the way I’d bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, the fantasies that would consume me as I brought myself to the release my marriage bed couldn’t provide.
“I was just… I was just washing,” I lied weakly, my voice cracking.
Master Paul’s expression didn’t change. “Heather, we both know that’s not true. The audio recordings make what you were doing very clear. The question is whether you’re going to be honest about it now, or whether you need additional motivation.”
The threat in his voice was subtle, but unmistakable. I thought about the cane Lisa had mentioned, about the purple stripes I’d seen across Joann’s bottom. My resolve crumbled.
“Please,” I whispered, tears mixing with the shower water on my cheeks. “It’s so embarrassing.”
“Shame is good for you,” he said simply. “It’s honest. It’s real. Now show me.”
With shaking hands, I began to soap my body more deliberately. My fingers moved over my breasts, and despite my mortification, I felt my nipples harden under the attention. Master Paul watched with calm but evident interest as I traced the same paths I’d followed in countless morning showers.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked. “When you touched yourself like this, what images filled your mind?”