Page 31 of Innocence Tamed
With one smooth motion, he pulled the thong down to just above my knees, surely exposing my pussy and even my anus to his gaze. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the thought of being so completely revealed to him.
The feeling of having my panties pulled down by a man—by Pierre—created a terrible conflict within me. On one level, the humiliation felt excruciating, worse than anything I’d experienced before. I felt like a naughty child being punished, stripped of both clothing and dignity. Yet beneath that shame,something primitive and undeniable stirred—a dark excitement, a forbidden thrill that made my breath catch and my pulse race.
My pussy clenched involuntarily, a betrayal so intimate I wanted to die of shame. Behind me, Pierre chuckled, the sound both knowing and triumphant.
“I can see how badly your pussy needs a man’s cock in it,” he observed, his voice thick with satisfaction. “It’s practically weeping for attention. But you must learn obedience before you’re fucked for the first time.”
His crude words should have disgusted me, should have made me fight harder against this degradation. Instead, they sent a fresh surge of need between my legs.
“I’m going to whip you until you say you’ll put the babydoll nightgown on,” Pierre continued, running one finger lightly down the cleft of my buttocks, making me shiver uncontrollably. “When you do that, you will earn the right to suck my cock, which has gotten very, very hard as I’ve whipped you.”
The martinet whistled through the air again, landing with precise cruelty across my now bare bottom. Without the minimal protection of the thong, the pain was even more intense, the leather strands finding every sensitive spot with unerring accuracy. I howled, my body bucking against the unyielding arm of the couch.
“Seven,” Pierre counted calmly.
To my horror, my mouth began to water as I thought about Pierre’s unseen cock. The idea of putting my lips around his hardness, of tasting him, of feeling him thrust into my mouth—sent a shameful ripple of desire through my entire body. I’d never sucked a man before, never even seen an erect penisexcept in anatomical diagrams or glimpsed in movies. The thought should have disgusted me, or at least frightened me. Instead, I found myself wondering how big he was, how he would taste, what sounds he would make as I pleasured him with my mouth.
Then, even worse, after the next lash from the martinet, Pierre put his hand between my thighs. The sudden contact with my most intimate place made me gasp, my body jerking in surprise.
“It’s important to me that you learn not just about the painful side of discipline,” he said, his voice husky with what I knew with a lurch of my stomach must be lust, “but also the other side—not just about punishment, but also about reward.”
His fingers brushed lightly against my outer lips, making me tremble. No man had ever touched me there before. The sensation was electric, sending sparks shooting up my spine.
“You’re so wet,” Pierre murmured, sounding pleased. “Your body understands what’s happening even if your mind still resists.”
He began to work my virgin pussy with what I sensed, with a hot blush, must be great skill, his fingers sliding through my folds with confident precision. One finger circled the entrance of my vagina, teasing but not penetrating, while his thumb found my clit and pressed against it gently.
The pleasure was immediate and overwhelming. I bit my lip, trying desperately to hold back the moan building in my throat.
When his finger finally slipped inside me, just to the first knuckle, the sensation was so intense that I couldn’t contain the sound any longer. A moan escaped me, low and needy, a sound I barely recognized as my own.
Pierre’s response was immediate. His hand withdrew from between my legs, and before I could process the loss, three hard lashes from the martinet landed in rapid succession across my already tender bottom.
“Eight, nine, ten,” he counted, his voice now tight with what sounded like barely controlled desire.
I cried out with each stroke, the pain somehow sharper, more focused after the momentary pleasure his fingers had provided. Tears streamed down my face, but beneath the pain, that insistent pulse of arousal continued to build.
“Please,” I sobbed. “Oh, please…”
CHAPTER 14
Pierre
“You will call meMonsieur,” I told her coldly, “from this moment on, above all while your panties are down.”
I brought the martinet down again across her reddened flesh, watching with satisfaction as the leather tails left fresh marks on her delicate skin. Her bottom had begun to look like a beautiful canvas, painted in shades of pink and red that spoke of my authority and her submission.
“Yes,Monsieur,” she whimpered, the formal address falling from her lips like a surrender.
I smiled, pleased by this small sign of progress. “Good girl,” I murmured, putting the martinet down on her back so I could caress the sweet, firm globes of her bottom. The contrast between the punishment of the whip and the gentleness of my touch represented an essential part of her training—the lesson of pain and pleasure intertwined would lie at the heart of her learning to please me.
Her body responded beautifully to the alternating approach. When I stroked her tender flesh, she arched into my hand like a cat seeking affection. When I withdrew to pick up the whip and deliver another stroke, she tensed in anticipation, a soft cry escaping her lips as the leather connected with her skin.
I slid my hand between her thighs again, finding her even wetter than before. Her arousal coated my fingers as I explored her virgin sex, careful not to penetrate too deeply. That pleasure would come later—her first true penetration would be with my cock, not my fingers. Audrey struggled, just a little, as if she needed to feel my left hand restraining her and keeping her where I wanted, in order to enjoy her master’s forced caress.
“Tell me what you need, Audrey,” I commanded, circling her clitoris firmly with my two middle fingers.
She trembled beneath my touch, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. “I… I don’t know,Monsieur,” she confessed, her voice small and confused.
