Read Online Poor Little Rich Slut by Lizbeth Dusseau - Free Book Online
Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
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the food. You’ll hardly be missed.”
I smiled a half smile and began to wander. Now, more than ever, I felt everyone’s eyes on me. It registered in my body as heat and vibration, a pulse centering in my belly and extending outward. By the time I finally reached the conservatory, which was attached to the house on the South side, just off one end of the great room, there were only a few people in the vicinity, just as Garrison predicted.
The large glass enclosure was filled with my father’s orchids and other tropical plants he tended with great care. I’d never been particularly interested in them, but I did love the aroma of the room and even the greenhouse heat that made me feel as if I was walking through a jungle. As far as I could tell, there was no one in the conservatory, which made my meeting with Garrison as private as it could be, while still so close to the party.
“So, let me see you,” he said. He’d come up from behind.
I turned. “You want to see my bottom now?”
“I want to see the stripes, yes.”
I flushed as a titillating feeling of embarrassment swept through me. But I obeyed the order and bent over, placing my hands on a bench and let him look.
He flipped the skirt off my rear. “Very nice. I always thought the little bitch had a little sadist in her.”
“I’d say there’s more than a little sadist in her,” I commented.
His hand moved over my wounds, bringing back the original pain, although my bottom seemed to move involuntarily under his palm, struggling to increase the erotic sensation already cavorting through me unchecked.
“Doesn’t take much to turn you on, does it?” he said.
I was only too aware of the precarious position I was in. I worried that any minute someone would find me there, bent over and shamelessly enjoying Garrison’s caress. Even so, I took no measures to end the scene. He began to massage the tender flesh a little harder; I could hear myself groan as his fingers moved deep between my legs. He toyed with the opening of my vagina and my juices ran out over his hand.
“I should just fuck you here,” he declared in a scowling whisper.
Oh, I wish you would! I silently screamed, while under my breath I softly seethed.
After having me nearly orgasmic, he moved his focus from my cunt to my rear hole. These last few days had produced a series of firsts for me…this anal stimulation became another.
I was immediately confused. Garrison’s finger was on my anus, smoothing my own juices about the hole and prodding open the tight muscle that didn’t want to give. His free hand was on my shoulder to steady me—so I wouldn’t freak out, which I suspect he knew might happen. He wasn’t far off the mark, as I felt a moment of panic make me almost bolt.
While I thought of the party going on just yards away, I felt myself being crudely probed. Once again, I wondered what had come over me to allow a man such complete power over me. And yet, despite my worried wondering, I did nothing to stop him, as if I had no will of my own anymore.
His finger moved deeper when my sphincter finally relaxed. It seemed that the more my arousal crescendoed the more I allowed him entrance. My breathing became ragged; I was panting with an open mouth. Again, a surge orgasmic spasms threatened to send me into climax. I would have given anything to have gone that far, but then, just as the climax was on me, Garrison pulled his finger from my anus, and something else, something foreign plunged inside my rectum.
“What was that?!” I came up asking.
He forcefully pushed me back down.
“Just a small anal plug. You’ll wear it the rest of the night.”
The weals of Angelica’s caning weren’t enough?
“Yes, and I’m sure you’re wondering why. Well, I’ll let you tell me why once the night is over.”
The plug fit tight, but there was no way it would stay without some help. Knowing this, Garrison came prepared with some thin, flesh-colored leather straps that
I smiled a half smile and began to wander. Now, more than ever, I felt everyone’s eyes on me. It registered in my body as heat and vibration, a pulse centering in my belly and extending outward. By the time I finally reached the conservatory, which was attached to the house on the South side, just off one end of the great room, there were only a few people in the vicinity, just as Garrison predicted.
The large glass enclosure was filled with my father’s orchids and other tropical plants he tended with great care. I’d never been particularly interested in them, but I did love the aroma of the room and even the greenhouse heat that made me feel as if I was walking through a jungle. As far as I could tell, there was no one in the conservatory, which made my meeting with Garrison as private as it could be, while still so close to the party.
“So, let me see you,” he said. He’d come up from behind.
I turned. “You want to see my bottom now?”
“I want to see the stripes, yes.”
I flushed as a titillating feeling of embarrassment swept through me. But I obeyed the order and bent over, placing my hands on a bench and let him look.
He flipped the skirt off my rear. “Very nice. I always thought the little bitch had a little sadist in her.”
“I’d say there’s more than a little sadist in her,” I commented.
His hand moved over my wounds, bringing back the original pain, although my bottom seemed to move involuntarily under his palm, struggling to increase the erotic sensation already cavorting through me unchecked.
“Doesn’t take much to turn you on, does it?” he said.
I was only too aware of the precarious position I was in. I worried that any minute someone would find me there, bent over and shamelessly enjoying Garrison’s caress. Even so, I took no measures to end the scene. He began to massage the tender flesh a little harder; I could hear myself groan as his fingers moved deep between my legs. He toyed with the opening of my vagina and my juices ran out over his hand.
“I should just fuck you here,” he declared in a scowling whisper.
Oh, I wish you would! I silently screamed, while under my breath I softly seethed.
After having me nearly orgasmic, he moved his focus from my cunt to my rear hole. These last few days had produced a series of firsts for me…this anal stimulation became another.
I was immediately confused. Garrison’s finger was on my anus, smoothing my own juices about the hole and prodding open the tight muscle that didn’t want to give. His free hand was on my shoulder to steady me—so I wouldn’t freak out, which I suspect he knew might happen. He wasn’t far off the mark, as I felt a moment of panic make me almost bolt.
While I thought of the party going on just yards away, I felt myself being crudely probed. Once again, I wondered what had come over me to allow a man such complete power over me. And yet, despite my worried wondering, I did nothing to stop him, as if I had no will of my own anymore.
His finger moved deeper when my sphincter finally relaxed. It seemed that the more my arousal crescendoed the more I allowed him entrance. My breathing became ragged; I was panting with an open mouth. Again, a surge orgasmic spasms threatened to send me into climax. I would have given anything to have gone that far, but then, just as the climax was on me, Garrison pulled his finger from my anus, and something else, something foreign plunged inside my rectum.
“What was that?!” I came up asking.
He forcefully pushed me back down.
“Just a small anal plug. You’ll wear it the rest of the night.”
The weals of Angelica’s caning weren’t enough?
“Yes, and I’m sure you’re wondering why. Well, I’ll let you tell me why once the night is over.”
The plug fit tight, but there was no way it would stay without some help. Knowing this, Garrison came prepared with some thin, flesh-colored leather straps that
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