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)
“I said… I said… I’m an ass whore.” The words came out in a broken whisper.
“Louder.”
My cheeks flamed so hot that I felt dizzy. “I said I’m a little ass whore.”
Gowry let out the faintest breath through his nose. I didn’t dare look at him, but the sound alone made my stomach twist.
Porter’s voice went lower. “And what does a little ass whore need?”
I stared at him. He stared back. There was no refuge anywhere.
“A cock,” I whispered.
“Where?”
“Up her bottom.” My whole body had gone tight. “A cock up her bottom.”
Porter let the silence sit for a beat, as if the room itself should absorb my confession. I could hardly believe I had said it. Hardly believe I had said it in front of the senator who had first dragged me into this twisted, hot, political-sexual abyss.
Then Porter turned his attention to Gowry.
“I had made the consequences very clear,” he said, in his quiet, controlled voice. “If Alex played with her cunt without permission, she knew she would be caned. She chose to test that boundary.”
Gowry’s eyes moved over me, assessing and darkly interested. “And now you intend to follow through.”
“Of course.” Porter gave the smallest shrug. “Otherwise one says things one doesn’t mean, and that would be poor training.”
The word training made heat dart through me again, awful and instantaneous.
Porter looked at me, then toward the desk.
“Go and bend yourself over the senator’s desk, Alex. It’s time to learn your lesson.”
I moved, as if under a spell. Because… because…
I have no choice.
The desk looked exactly as it had in my dreams and in my memory: broad, polished, unforgiving. I placed my hands on it, bending slightly, then hesitated.
“Lower,” Porter said. “Reach forward and take hold of the opposite edge.”
I bent farther, my breasts pressing against the wood, my bottom lifting behind me in the tiny red thong. Every inch of me knew what shape I made like that. Every inch knew I had been arranged as an object for masculine discussion… masculine correction… masculine use.
Behind me Porter said, “Senator, if you’d care to help me discipline her, perhaps you’d be kind enough to take her panties down for me, as you asked to do.”
There was a pause. I heard the scrape of leather as Gowry stood.
“I would,” he said.
My pulse pounded in my ears.
Porter went on, dry as ever. “To be clear, I’m the only man who has the right and responsibility to whip Alex. I’m rather firm on that point. She’s the kind of girl who should be shared, though. After her punishment we can discuss how she will thank you for assisting in her training.”
The words sent a dark, sick thrill through me. Shared. After. My body seemed to hear the words at a level deeper than my reeling brain.
I heard a kind of thunk, and then a metallic snap. It took me a moment to understand that Porter had moved his briefcase from the floor to a side table, and opened it.
“You came prepared,” Gowry’s voice said drily.
“Of course,” Porter said. I strained my ears. Had he taken it out? I couldn’t hear anything…
Then a terrifying sound. A swish, high-pitched. A long, thin, stiff object traveling rapidly through the air.
“And she’s never been whipped with one before?” the senator asked, his voice laden with amused curiosity.
“She has not,” Porter confirmed. “I understand you used your belt on that pretty backside. I’ve done the same. And she’s had her cunt spanked with my open hand. But I find the cane, above all for illicit self-pleasure, really doesn’t have any competition as the best instrument of correction for little sluts like this one.”
A forlorn wail came from my chest, as if I had heard the faraway Alex allow it to escape. I knew I must be visibly wet, now.
Then a sound that seemed, in the moment, even worse than the terrifying swish. Gowry sniffed the air.
“Oh, yes,” Porter said. “Alex’s cunt does perfume a room very naughtily, doesn’t it?”
I whined at that, my whole body on fire with mortification and helpless, humiliating need.
“Please, Senator,” my sponsor said. “Go ahead and take those panties down, if you’d be so kind.”
“Of course,” Gowry replied.
He came up behind me. I could feel him there even before he touched me. Then his hands settled at my hips—bigger, rougher feeling than Porter’s, though not clumsy. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the thong and drew it down very slowly.
The feeling of the air moving between my bottom cheeks made me shiver. The thong slid over my thighs, then lower. He obviously meant to savor the act of exposing my bare pussy and my cringing anus, the site of my naughtiness. At my knees he paused just long enough to make me feel how trapped I was, bent over a United States senator’s desk with my panties around my legs waiting to be caned by the man who paid for me.