Page 43 of His to Enjoy
My handheld buzzed. It seemed I had caught Van at a favorable moment.Her metrics just went through the roof. Whatever’s going on, it’s working.
I pulled up Grace’s biometric data on my own tablet. Her arousal levels were spiking in patterns I hadn’t seen before, different from her responses to me or the videos. This looked like something new, something that could be incredibly valuable for theHer Secret Gardenproject.
I watched as Melissa reached down and pulled Grace up by her hair, not roughly but with unmistakable authority. Grace’s lips glistened with evidence of her service, and the dazed expression on her face made my cock throb against my zipper.
“On the ottoman,” Melissa commanded, gesturing to the leather piece positioned in front of her office couch. “On your back.”
Grace
Again, just as I had felt the previous night when Scott had given me a very similar command, I saw myself complying. I pretended I hadn’t chosen, that I did it because of course Melissa would punish me if I disobeyed, just as Scott had—or maybe she would tell Scott that he had to punish me, which was much worse. I almost whimpered as I thought about that—about Scott putting me over his knee, or even plugging me the way Brian had plugged Leah.
As if from a distance, I watched myself lie down on the ottoman, as Melissa pulled her red lace thong all the way off. She approached, her skirt around her waist to expose the shaven pussy she had already made me kiss so lewdly, even though I had never done the shameful thing before. I noted a swagger in Melissa’s step that made my cheeks blaze. Her garter belt framed the bare cleft, and the peek I got at the pink inner lips just emerging from it made me feel dizzy.
She straddled my face without ceremony, lowering herself until her wet flesh pressed against my mouth. The weight of her, the scent of her arousal overwhelming my senses, made me whimper against her. My hands fluttered uselessly at my sides, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.
“Use your tongue properly,” Melissa commanded from above me, grinding down slightly. “I know you’re new to this, but you’re going to learn fast. You clearly need a firm hand, and I’m happy to provide that as a reinforcement of your master’s training.”
I tried to obey, my tongue moving clumsily against her slick folds. The taste was different from my own, muskier somehow, and the knowledge that I was performing this act in an office at Selecta, where anyone might walk in, made my whole body flush with humiliation. The belt between my own legs felt unbearably tight, pressing against my swollen flesh as my arousal built despite—or because of—the degradation.
“Better,” Melissa murmured, her thighs tightening around my head. “Scott was right about you. Such a responsive little thing. Lucky for you that he gave me permission to reward you if I see fit.”
She reached down and I felt her fingers at the belt’s clasps. The soft beep of the electronic lock disengaging made me sob with relief against her pussy. She pulled the leather away from my soaked flesh, and the movement of the air against my exposed pussy made me buck involuntarily.
“Look at this sweet cunt,” she breathed, and I felt her fingers trace through my wetness. “Absolutely drenched from serving another woman. No wonder Scott is so taken with you.”
Without warning, she leaned forward, and I felt her hot breath against my sensitive flesh. When her tongue made contact with my clit, I screamed into her, the sound muffled by her body pressing down on my face. She licked me with the same authority she’d shown in everything else, her tongue circling my swollen bud while one finger pressed against my rear entrance.
The multiple sensation—her pussy on my mouth, her mouth on mine—created a feedback loop of pleasure that made rational thought impossible. When her finger breached my still-sore bottom-hole, I came instantly, violently, my whole body convulsing beneath her. She didn’t stop, working me through one climax and into another, until I was sobbing and shaking, my face covered in her arousal and my own tears.
“I know I’m being selfish,” Melissa panted above me, her hips beginning a slow, deliberate rhythm against my face. “But your mouth feels so perfect, Grace. I could ride you for hours.”
She shifted slightly, angling herself differently, and I gasped as best I could with her weight pressing down on me. My tongue ached from the unfamiliar exertion, but I couldn’t stop, couldn’t disappoint her. The way she ground against me, using my face for her pleasure with such casual ownership, made my newly exposed pussy clench with desperate need.
“That’s it,” she murmured, her movements becoming more forceful. “Such a good girl. Now…” She lifted slightly, repositioning, and my eyes widened as I understood what she wanted. “Lick my asshole, Grace. Show me you understand complete submission.”
My face burned with fresh humiliation, but I obeyed, my tongue tentatively exploring this new, even more degrading territory. The sound Melissa made—half growl, half whimper—told me I was doing it right. She squirmed against me, her bottom pressing firmly against my mouth as she chased her pleasure.
“Yes,” she hissed, her thighs trembling. “Just like that. God, Grace, you’re a natural little slut, aren’t you?”
I couldn’t answer, could only continue my shameful service as she rode my face with increasing desperation. When she finally came, it was with a cry that must have echoed through the adjacent offices. Her whole body shuddered above me, and I felt her wetness increase against my chin as her climax overtook her.
But she didn’t move away. Instead, she shifted into a lazy, almost meditative rhythm, her pussy sliding slowly across my chin, my lips, my nose. I could barely breathe, gasping for air whenever she lifted slightly, but she seemed lost in her own world.
“I’ve been thinking about Debbie’s story,” she said conversationally, as if she weren’t still using my face as her personal pleasure device. “The footage from her punishment sessions, her training with her suitor. There’s something raw there, something we haven’t fully captured yet.”
She paused to grind particularly firmly against my mouth, making me whimper. “I want to create something different. Not just the standard domination narrative, but something thatexplores the psychology of it. The way a girl like Debbie—or you—processes the shame and arousal together.”
Her movements had become almost hypnotic, a slow figure-eight pattern that kept me on the edge of suffocation. “We could intercut her punishment scenes with confessional segments. Have her—maybe following a script that you could write, from your own experience—describe not just what’s happening, but why she needs it. The relief that comes with surrendering control.”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Melissa rose from my face. I gasped desperately for air, my face soaked and sticky, my jaw aching.
She stood gracefully, smoothing her skirt back down while I remained sprawled on the ottoman, trying to catch my breath. My mind raced with the implications of what she’d just said about Debbie’s story, and suddenly, unexpectedly, ideas began flooding through my brain.
“What if…” I started, then stopped, unsure if I should speak. But Melissa’s expectant gaze encouraged me to continue. I pushed myself up to sitting, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “What if we don’t just use confessionals? What if we show the internal dialogue during the punishment itself?”
Melissa’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Go on.”
The words tumbled out faster now, my analytical mind finally finding purchase despite my body’s exhausted state. “We could use split screens—show Debbie being spanked on one side, but on the other, show her earlier that day, maybe touching herself while thinking about her suitor. Or show her writing in a diary about wanting to be punished. Make it clear that the disciplineisn’t just happening to her—she’s been craving it, orchestrating it even.”
