Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
What I had said… how I had moved… what I had offered.
How completely I had disgraced myself… if my sponsor had indeed been watching.
A sound of misery escaped me before I could stop it. I pulled the nightgown down at once, absurdly trying to cover myself after everything. I rolled onto my back and then sat up too quickly, panic surging through me now that the arousal had quenched itself.
“Sir?” I whispered into the room. “Porter?”
Nothing.
The silence made it worse. It left room for hope, which left room for dread.
“Oh, God,” I said, and this time I meant it in an entirely different way. “Please… please, if you saw that…”
My throat tightened. Tears rushed to my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the room. “Please have mercy on me. Please. I know I disobeyed. I know what you said. I’m sorry.”
For three awful seconds nothing happened.
Then the speaker came alive.
The sound of his voice nearly stopped my heart.
“Thank you for the performance, Alex.”
I made a helpless little cry and clapped a hand over my mouth.
He continued in the same calm tone he might have used to discuss a car service or a dinner reservation. “You were quite explicit.”
I could barely breathe. “Sir… please…”
“You knew the consequences,” he said. “You have been warned clearly more than once. Since you chose to ignore the rule, you will be caned without mercy tomorrow night. I intend that you learn your lesson properly.”
CHAPTER 28
Alex
When sleep finally found me, I got little rest. I dreamed almost at once, and the dream had the stark vividness of something my body had been waiting all day to stage for me.
I stood in the hideaway office in the Capitol building: the place where my life had taken its humiliating left turn, thanks to Gowry’s hard cock and his horrid belt. Dark wood. Leather. Flags in one corner. A bank of windows looking out over gray winter light.
The asshole senator himself stood near his desk with his hands loosely clasped behind his back, broad and implacable, watching me with the arrogant, appraising gaze I remembered much too well. Porter stood beside me with a cane in his hand.
I wore nothing at all.
My hair fell over my shoulders, my scalp tingled with shame, and both men could see how wet I was because my need dripped down my thigh. Porter’s hand closed on the back of my neck and guided me forward with complete certainty.
“Bend over the senator’s desk,” he said.
In the dream I obeyed at once.
The immediate way my body complied, as if all the struggle had been driven out of me and only obedience remained, terrified me, even in the dream. I felt the polished wood under my palms. I heard the tiny sounds my body made against the hard surface as I leaned over. I heard my own breathing. Then I felt Porter’s fingers on my ass, lifting slightly, probing, tugging.
Gowry came closer. I could see his reflection in the dark shine of the desk. He looked interested, in an amused sort of way.
Porter said, in that calm voice that always seemed able to make indecency sound administrative, “It’s a tight little anus. I fuck it every day.”
“Ah,” Gowry replied. “Good to know.”
“Alex has been naughty, though. She played with her cunt and her ass when I was away. I thought it might interest you to see how I correct her.”
I heard the cane tap once against my sponsor’s palm.
My whole body tightened. In the dream I could feel everything with impossible clarity: the cool air on my bare bottom, the strain in my thighs from standing still, the awful pulse between my legs, the knowledge of Gowry’s eyes on me. I wanted to beg Porter not to do it in front of him. I wanted to beg him to get it over with. I wanted to beg Gowry to watch closely.
The first stroke landed and the pain ripped through me so sharply that I screamed and grabbed at the desk. It was worse in the dream than in any waking anticipation: thin, white-hot, exact. Porter made me count. Gowry listened. On the third stroke I had started to sob. On the fifth my legs were shaking. On the sixth I looked up by accident and met Gowry’s eyes in the reflection, and the sight of his calm interest sent such a violent wave of humiliation through me that my pussy clenched.
Porter saw it, of course. Dream-Porter always saw everything.
“You see, Senator,” he said behind me, “how beautifully she responds to the right kind of discipline.”
I cried harder. Gowry came nearer still. He had somehow arrived on the other side of the desk, now, and he put one finger under my chin and lifted my face while I was bent over the desk with my bottom striped red for both of them to see.