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Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
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snugly held the device in place. They threaded my crotch and joined a narrow belt that circled my hips. Not only would I have the plug in my ass, but the leather strap slipped in right next to my clitoris, giving me the constant sensation of something pressing at that bud—a devious and perpetual reminder of Garrison’s authority over me.
“By the way, nice shaving job,” he said, as his fingers glided on the smooth bare skin of my shaved pussy. “Angelica’s doing?”
“Yes, it was.” I felt rather strange admitting this.
“I knew she’d make a good accomplice.”
Yes, that was a choice word for the sexy maid.
“And you made love?” he asked.
“Just as you ordered.”
“ Humm .” My answer pleased him. “Tell me how it made you feel?”
As he asked his questions, he continued to massage my wounded bottom and occasionally pressed his fingers against the plug.
“Eleanor! Eleanor, are you in there!” Whimsy Perkins’ voice. I started to bolt upright only to have Garrison push me back down. “Answer her,” he whispered.
“I’ll be right there!” I called out. “I’m just taking a break.”
“Gordon wants to give his speech.”
“I’ll be right there.”
By the time I finished convincing Whimsy, I was on my feet with Garrison’s assistance. My dress was righted, my hair combed down and I moved out from behind the tropical plants back into the greatroom . Garrison followed moments later.
Although I know I looked terrific in Garrison’s dress, that every hair was in place and my smile was perfect for the event and the accolades being heaped on me, I couldn’t help but feel completely naked as 200 hundred pairs of eyes were focused my way. The stripes from the caning still throbbed, as if they were flashing lights, pulsing with heat, my lower body lit with neon. The plug in my ass was certainly noticeable; my mind pestered me with that thought. I dared not bend over, and I dared not look Garrison Tate in the eye. If I did, I’d certainly melt into a puddle of orgasmic goo. Without having to be at my side, he’d closed in around me. He’d taken over my mind. In the background of every thought, he was there. Every movement of my body provided a reminder of his presence. Was this what I wanted? I constantly wondered.
All I knew for certain was if his presence ceased now, if Garrison ceased to be at the center of my life, I’d lose myself. I’d be aimlessly wandering the sexual chaos of my life without a guide. That was far more frightening than moving forward with these stripes, and my sore behind, the uncomfortable plug and the promise of more, much more.
***
Exhausted, I slumped on a stone bench at the far side of the garden.
“Ouch!” I whispered under my breath, not having realized that sitting on the plug would be more uncomfortable than walking with it. I hadn’t sat all night, and now my feet were sore, my bottom was sore and every muscle in me ached. My pussy ached too, wanting, needing more than it was getting.
But the party was finally over, thank God. It had been a good one, and, as Daddy predicted, the perfect way to promote the magazine. The press would be generous, since this would have been seen as Eleanor Rule’s ‘coming out’ party. It was a little belated to be sure, but there’d be lots to report, and I suppose a few innuendos to bloom into full-fledged gossip. I can’t imagine anyone not seeing the way Garrison Tate snuggled in to me from time to time during the evening.
By then, I really didn’t care.
“Can’t keep that light of yours under a bushel forever,” Daddy had said to me, before the entire throng, to which I’d generously smiled and lifted my champagne glass.
At least this first major obligation of my new job was over. Maybe it would be easier now to move forward. The same could be said of my sexual initiation.
“Well, I think your party was a big success.” Ah, Garrison!
I was so deep in thought, I hadn’t even seen him coming.
“By the way, nice shaving job,” he said, as his fingers glided on the smooth bare skin of my shaved pussy. “Angelica’s doing?”
“Yes, it was.” I felt rather strange admitting this.
“I knew she’d make a good accomplice.”
Yes, that was a choice word for the sexy maid.
“And you made love?” he asked.
“Just as you ordered.”
“ Humm .” My answer pleased him. “Tell me how it made you feel?”
As he asked his questions, he continued to massage my wounded bottom and occasionally pressed his fingers against the plug.
“Eleanor! Eleanor, are you in there!” Whimsy Perkins’ voice. I started to bolt upright only to have Garrison push me back down. “Answer her,” he whispered.
“I’ll be right there!” I called out. “I’m just taking a break.”
“Gordon wants to give his speech.”
“I’ll be right there.”
By the time I finished convincing Whimsy, I was on my feet with Garrison’s assistance. My dress was righted, my hair combed down and I moved out from behind the tropical plants back into the greatroom . Garrison followed moments later.
Although I know I looked terrific in Garrison’s dress, that every hair was in place and my smile was perfect for the event and the accolades being heaped on me, I couldn’t help but feel completely naked as 200 hundred pairs of eyes were focused my way. The stripes from the caning still throbbed, as if they were flashing lights, pulsing with heat, my lower body lit with neon. The plug in my ass was certainly noticeable; my mind pestered me with that thought. I dared not bend over, and I dared not look Garrison Tate in the eye. If I did, I’d certainly melt into a puddle of orgasmic goo. Without having to be at my side, he’d closed in around me. He’d taken over my mind. In the background of every thought, he was there. Every movement of my body provided a reminder of his presence. Was this what I wanted? I constantly wondered.
All I knew for certain was if his presence ceased now, if Garrison ceased to be at the center of my life, I’d lose myself. I’d be aimlessly wandering the sexual chaos of my life without a guide. That was far more frightening than moving forward with these stripes, and my sore behind, the uncomfortable plug and the promise of more, much more.
***
Exhausted, I slumped on a stone bench at the far side of the garden.
“Ouch!” I whispered under my breath, not having realized that sitting on the plug would be more uncomfortable than walking with it. I hadn’t sat all night, and now my feet were sore, my bottom was sore and every muscle in me ached. My pussy ached too, wanting, needing more than it was getting.
But the party was finally over, thank God. It had been a good one, and, as Daddy predicted, the perfect way to promote the magazine. The press would be generous, since this would have been seen as Eleanor Rule’s ‘coming out’ party. It was a little belated to be sure, but there’d be lots to report, and I suppose a few innuendos to bloom into full-fledged gossip. I can’t imagine anyone not seeing the way Garrison Tate snuggled in to me from time to time during the evening.
By then, I really didn’t care.
“Can’t keep that light of yours under a bushel forever,” Daddy had said to me, before the entire throng, to which I’d generously smiled and lifted my champagne glass.
At least this first major obligation of my new job was over. Maybe it would be easier now to move forward. The same could be said of my sexual initiation.
“Well, I think your party was a big success.” Ah, Garrison!
I was so deep in thought, I hadn’t even seen him coming.
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