Page 74 of Shamefully Trained

The first direct touch on my bare, waxed pussy made me cry out. I was too sensitive already, too exposed, and his fingertips seemed to know exactly how to use that. He did not thrust a finger inside me at first. He simply played with the slick folds he had had prepared for his pleasure, spreading me, circling me, letting me feel how wet I was.

“Sir,” I whispered, half plea, half warning, though I no longer knew what I was trying to stop him from doing.

He slid one finger into me.

I moaned and bit my lip. My hips tried to lift. My hands tightened on my own thighs so hard they almost hurt. He kept me on the edge with absurd ease, his thumb brushing my clit just enough, his finger moving in and out of me with slow, humiliating intimacy.

“That’s it,” he said. “Look at this. So ready.”

I was shaking by then. Every nerve had begun to gather toward a single unbearable point. I knew what he was doing. I knew he was making it worse. My body didn’t care. My body only knew that he was touching me exactly the way I wanted, exactly the way it had begun to crave.

“Please,” I heard myself say. I didn’t even know whether I meant please stop or please don’t stop.

He brought me one breath away from climax. I could feel it blooming low and hot and inevitable, my back arching, my knees trying to spread wider.

Then he withdrew his hand.

A broken sound came out of me at once.

Before I could even properly protest, he put the gusset back in place over my soaked, aching pussy. The lace clung to me in a way that felt entirely pornographic.

Then he spanked me there, very hard, with his open hand.

I screamed.

The first slap through the wet lace felt like fire. Not the broad sting of a bottom spanking, not the more familiar burn on flesh made for sitting and walking and discipline, but something shocking and intimate and almost impossible to process, the impact landing directly on the swollen center of me through the soaked little scrap of fabric.

“No! Oh, God… sir… please… no!”

The second swat came almost immediately.

My head threshed from side to side. My knees tried to close. He caught one sharply and forced it back apart.

“Hold still.”

The third spank landed before the tears had fully broken from my eyes.

I sobbed. “Please stop, please stop, I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

The fourth.

The fifth.

The sixth.

By the end I was screaming and sobbing, my whole lower body aflame, my pussy throbbing under the wet lace in a way that seemed half pain and half some terrible, reconfigured arousal. I couldn’t breathe properly. I couldn’t think. I only knew that he had done exactly what he said he would do and that something in me had needed to know he meant it.

CHAPTER 23

Alex

He let me cry for a few seconds, enough for me to catch my breath and for rational thought to return.

Then, as if we had arrived at the part of the lesson he actually cared most about, he asked, “Why did I put you in white tonight?”

I shook my head once on the pillow, but there was no point in lying now. Not after that. Not with my body spread and burning and still shamefully wet.

My voice came out in sobs. “Because… I think… because… because you’re going to… to fuck my… my ass for the first time.”