Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“You’re going to find out what happens to naughty girls like you,” Mark continued, his voice taking on a darker edge. “How wealthy men like to fuck tight little pussies. How they’ll bend you over just like this and use you whenever they want.”
The words sent me spiraling. My fingers moved faster, my hips rocking against my hand. I was panting now, shameless, lost in the sensation.
“That’s it. Come for the camera. Your sponsor’s going to love taking your virginity.”
My breath came in ragged pants. My fingers moved faster and faster no matter how hard I tried to pull my hand away.
“And that ass,” Mark said, his voice almost conversational now. “God, that’s irresistible. Your sponsor is going to make you take his cock there often. Very often.”
The words sent a jolt of shameful electricity through me. My fingers kept moving, but my mind reeled at the image his words conjured—being taken there, in that forbidden place the nurse had examined with the speculum.
“When he wants to use your bottom and you refuse,” Mark continued, still clicking away with his camera, “he’ll spank you over his knee until you’re crying and begging him to fuck your ass instead of spanking you anymore.”
The image crystallized in my mind with devastating clarity—bent over some wealthy stranger’s lap, my bottom already sore from his hand, pleading with him to take me there just to make the spanking stop. The humiliation of it, the surrender, the complete loss of control—
My orgasm crashed over me before I could stop it. I cried out, my whole body convulsing as pleasure ripped through me in waves. My fingers kept moving, drawing it out, making it last until I was trembling and gasping against the rough bark of the tree branch.
The camera never stopped clicking.
“Excellent,” Mark said after a moment. “That footage is going to get you a top-tier sponsor, no question.”
I stayed bent over the branch, my chest heaving, my face burning with the aftermath of what I’d just done. The welts on my bottom throbbed in time with my racing pulse. My pussy still clenched with aftershocks.
“You can get dressed,” Mark said, already checking his tablet as if to prepare for the next girl. “You need to see Ann, the intake counselor. She’s in Building C, second floor. Reception will direct you.”
I straightened slowly, every muscle protesting. My panties were still around my knees, and I had to bend down to pull them up—a movement that sent fresh pain radiating across my welted bottom. My bra lay in the grass where I’d dropped it. I picked it up with shaking hands and fastened it, then pulled on my jeans and hoodie.
Mark was already walking away toward his camera bag in a shady corner, like I was just another item checked off his to-do list.
I stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. What I’d just done. I’d masturbated to orgasm in front of a stranger’s camera. I’d gotten aroused from being caned. The evidence of my shame was all captured on video, ready to be viewed by wealthy men shopping for a submissive girl to use.
My legs felt unsteady as I made my way back inside. The receptionist looked up as I approached.
“Building C,” I managed to say. “Second floor. Ann?”
She studied me for a moment, and I wondered what she saw. Could she tell what I’d just done? Could she see it written on my flushed face?
“Down that corridor to the left. Elevator on your right.”
CHAPTER 5
Laura
The door with the nameplate, Ann Tolliver, Selecta Arrangements Intake, was ajar. I poked my head inside, my heart beating faster though the office on the other side seemed perfectly normal.
“Come in, Laura.” The voice was warm, professional. Condescendingly soothing in a way that immediately put me back on edge after everything I’d been through today.
I stepped inside. Ann Tolliver sat behind a sleek desk, her ash-blonde hair perfectly styled, her green eyes assessing me with the frankness everyone here seemed to use. She wore a tailored blazer in a muted gray, and her fingers touched a pearl necklace at her throat as she gestured to the chair across from her.
“Please, sit down.”
I lowered myself into the chair, trying not to wince as my welted bottom made contact with the cushion. The pain sent a sharp reminder of the caning through my body, and I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
Ann’s eyes flickered with what might have been sympathy. Or maybe just acknowledgement. “I understand you’ve had quite an afternoon. But you’re approved for premium placement, which is excellent news. Now we just need to get you set up in the system.” She turned her tablet toward me. “This is the Selecta Arrangements app. It will be the primary way you interact with the program—and with your sponsor, once you have one.”