Page 43 of Bought and Enjoyed

With trembling fingers, I lifted the lid of the box. A whisper of tissue paper greeted me, concealing the contents within. I pushed it aside, my breath catching in my throat as I revealed the most exquisite lingerie I had ever seen.

I gasped softly as I lifted the delicate garments from their nest of tissue paper. The bra was a marvel of intricate white lace, so sheer I could see my hand through the delicate cups. Tiny pearls adorned the straps and edging, gleaming softly in the lamplight. The garter belt matched perfectly, a wisp of lace and satin that would encircle my waist, holding up sheer white stockings with lace tops.

My fingers trembled as I ran them over the impossibly soft nylon, imagining how it would feel against my skin. The stockings seemed to shimmer, promising to make my legs look long and elegant. I could almost feel the sensual whisper of the fabric as I would walk, the slight constriction of the garters reminding me with each step of my submission to Lucas.

As I set aside the bra, garter belt, and stockings, my breath caught in my throat. Nestled at the bottom of the box were the panties—if they could even be called that. They were little more than a scrap of lace, held together by satin ribbons. But it was what was missing that made my cheeks flame with heat.

The entire seat of the panties had been cut away, leaving a wide, circular opening. I stared at the garment, my mind racing as I realized the implications. Wearing these, my most intimate places would be completely exposed, available for Lucas’ use at any moment. He could fuck my bottom hole without even taking off my underwear.

Lucas’ eyes gleamed as he watched me examine the panties, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Do you like them,ma chère?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

I swallowed hard, struggling to find my voice. “They’re… beautiful,Monsieur,” I managed to whisper, my cheeks burning. “But I… I don’t understand.”

Lucas leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “They’re designed to allow me access to what’s mine,” he murmured, his hand coming to rest possessively on my thigh. “While still keeping you properly attired. And they’re white, of course, because I’m going to take your final virginity tonight.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, equal parts arousal and apprehension. I couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through me at the thought of wearing such revealing lingerie, of being so exposed and available to Lucas’ touch. But at the same time, Louise’s warning echoed in my mind, reminding me of the article and Lucas’ supposedly traditional views.

As I gazed at the exquisite lingerie, a surge of arousal coursed through me. I imagined how the delicate lace would feel against my skin and how the garters would frame my thighs. The thought of wearing something so beautiful, so feminine, made me feel desirable in a way I never had before.

But then Louise’s voice echoed in my mind, speaking a line I remembered overhearing in my college dining hall, that had unaccountably stuck in my head: “Lingerie is a gift men give to themselves.” The phrase hit me like a splash of cold water, dousing the warmth that had been building inside me.

I looked at the lingerie with new eyes, seeing beyond the delicate lace and shimmering satin. The bra, with its sheer cups, would display my breasts without actually covering them. The garter belt would draw attention to my hips, emphasizing my feminine curves. And those panties… my cheeks burned as I considered again how exposed, how available they would leave me.

This wasn’t a gift for me at all, I realized. This was Lucas dressing me up like a doll, adorning me for his own visual and physical pleasure. The cut-out in the panties made that abundantly clear—I would be constantly accessible, ready for him to use at his whim.

A wave of shame washed over me, mingling confusingly with the lingering arousal. Part of me still yearned to slip into the garments, to see myself transformed into the object of Lucas’ dominant sexual hunger. Another knew I had to put a stop to it all.

“Monsieur,” I began hesitantly, setting the box aside. “I… There’s something I need to ask you.”

Lucas’ brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded for me to continue. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say.

“I saw an article today,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “About your views on relationships and gender roles. It said… It said you believe in a ‘traditional marriage’ where the wife follows the husband’s lead. Is that true?”

Lucas’ expression softened, a hint of understanding dawning in his eyes. He reached out, taking my hand in his larger one. “Ah, I see,” he murmured. “You’re worried about what that might mean for us.”

I nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions swirling inside me. Lucas was silent for a long moment, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. When he spoke again, his voice was low and measured.

“Alice,ma chère, I won’t deny that I have traditional values when it comes to relationships. But perhaps I should explain what that means to me.” He paused, his eyes searching my face. “When I speak of a traditional marriage, I’m not talking about oppression or inequality. I’m talking about a partnership where each person has their role, where we complement and support each other.”

I frowned, still uncertain. “But you said the wife should follow her husband’s lead.”

Lucas sighed softly, his brow furrowing as he considered his words carefully. “In some matters, yes,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean the wife’s thoughts and feelings are disregarded. It’s about having a clear decision-maker when needed, not about dictating every aspect of her life.”

He paused, his eyes searching my face intently. “Alice, I would never want to stifle your intelligence or your ambitions. Your passion for history, your drive to succeed academically—these are things I admire greatly about you. I want to support your goals, not hinder them.”

I bit my lip, still feeling conflicted. “But then why…” I gestured helplessly at the lingerie box. “Why this? Why make me wear a plug all day, forbid me from wearing panties? It feels like you’re trying to control me, to make me into some kind of… sex object.”

My heart skipped a beat as I saw how Lucas’ eyes darkened at that.

“Well,ma chère,” he said, his voice just above a growl, “I suppose I refuse to deny that. I’ve paid a good deal of money in order that, yes, you be my lovely, intelligent fuck toy. Now I think you’d better act like it, or face the consequences. Stand up and take off all your clothes. I want to watch you put on your present.”

CHAPTER 19

Alice

My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at Lucas, his words echoing in my ears. Strip. Put on the lingerie. Be his fuck toy. My cheeks burned with shame even as a treacherous warmth gathered between my thighs.

I stood on trembling legs, my fingers moving to the buttons of my blouse. As I slowly undid each one, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Lucas’ intense gaze. His eyes raked over me, drinking in every inch of exposed skin.

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