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)
This is insane, I thought, positioning the rounded tip against my entrance. I’m preparing my anus for the cock of a man I’ve never met.
Yet something about the thought—about the surrender it implied—sent another rush of heat between my legs. I pressed the plug forward gently, feeling the resistance of my body against the intrusion.
Bear down slightly, the pamphlet had instructed. I did, and felt the plug begin to slide inside, stretching me in a way that was uncomfortable yet not exactly painful.
My breath caught as the widest part of the plug pressed against my tiny opening. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if it would fit, if my body would accept this invasion. Then suddenly, with a pop that made me gasp, it slipped past the tight ring of muscle, my body closing around the narrower neck, the flared base coming to rest against my skin.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, straightening carefully. The sensation was unlike anything I’d experienced before—a fullness, a presence, a constant reminder of my having performed the naughty act of inserting it, and of why, what it meant to be trained that way.
I turned slightly, catching sight of the base of the plug nestled between my cheeks in the mirror. The visual evidence of what I’d done—of how I was preparing myself for a stranger’s obscene use—sent a new thrill of arousal through me.
My hand returned to my pussy, fingers finding my clit with renewed urgency. The sensation was different now, intensified. Almost immediately I felt myself approaching the edge again. Every small movement caused the plug to shift slightly inside me, sending jolts of unfamiliar pleasure through my body. My fingers circled my clit faster, my breath coming in sharp gasps as I watched myself in the mirror—flushed, aroused, filled.
Just as I felt myself about to tip over into orgasm, the app chimed again.
Selecta Arrangements Notice: Orgasm Warning. Your sponsor may choose to punish unauthorized climax. For optimal first meeting outcomes, we recommend stopping stimulation now. Your heightened arousal state will enhance submissive responses during tomorrow’s introduction.
I froze, my fingers still pressed against my throbbing clit, my body trembling on the edge of release. Punish unauthorized climax? The idea sent a confusing mixture of fear and arousal through me. Would Pierre Lemieux actually punish me if I came without permission? The thought of his elegant hands delivering discipline made me throb with need.
But something about the warning resonated with me on a deeper level. If I were truly committing to this arrangement, shouldn’t I begin practicing obedience now? Wouldn’t it be better to demonstrate my willingness to follow instructions from the very beginning?
With tremendous effort, I withdrew my hand from between my legs, whimpering at the loss of stimulation. My body practically vibrated with unfulfilled need, my clit throbbing visibly in the mirror. The plug inside me seemed to intensify the sensation of emptiness in my pussy, making me ache for penetration that wouldn’t come tonight.
Slowly, carefully, I reached behind myself and grasped the base of the plug. Following the pamphlet’s instructions for removal, I bore down gently while pulling, gasping as the widest part stretched my opening again before popping free. The sudden emptiness felt almost as strange as the fullness had.
I cleaned the plug thoroughly as instructed, then replaced it in its box. My hands were still shaking as I pulled up my panties and shorts, the fabric feeling rough against my hypersensitive skin. My pussy throbbed with denied release, making me bite my lip to suppress another whimper.
Will I even be able to sleep like this? I wondered as I made my way back to bed. My entire body felt like a live wire, every nerve ending firing with unfulfilled arousal.
To my surprise, however, the moment my head touched the pillow, an overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. Perhaps it was the emotional toll of the day, or perhaps it was something in the building’s environmental controls—I had the fleeting thought that Selecta might be controlling even the air I breathed—but within moments, I felt myself drifting into sleep.
My last conscious thought was of Pierre Lemieux’s hazel eyes, watching me as I surrendered to slumber just as I might soon surrender everything else to him.
CHAPTER 10
Audrey
I found the café in the Rue des Rosiers with no difficulty. It nestled between a bakery and a vintage clothing shop, its facade painted a cheerful yellow with green trim. Through the windows, I could see small round tables and an eclectic mix of chairs. Despite its simple appearance, the clientele looked decidedly upscale—well-dressed Parisians sipping espresso and nibbling on patisseries.
I hesitated at the entrance, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I had arrived ten minutes early, though I’d spent far too long agonizing over what to wear. I’d finally settled on a simple blue sundress that I hoped struck the right balance between casual and presentable. The morning delivery from Selecta had included several outfits that were far more provocative than anything I’d normally wear, but I couldn’t bring myself to don any of them for this first meeting.