Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Miss Frieda strode purposefully to an ornate armoire in the corner of the room, its dark wood gleaming in the soft light. She pulled open the doors, revealing an array of exquisite lingerie in every color imaginable. Her hands moved deftly through the delicate fabrics, finally selecting two teddies made in the same lacy pattern.
“Here,” she said, turning back to us with the garments draped over her arm. “Put these on.”
I reached out with trembling fingers to take the teddy she offered me. The material was impossibly soft, a deep burgundy lace that seemed to shimmer in the low light. Tiny crystals adorned the cups, catching the light and sparkling with every movement.
Beside me, Jenna received an identical piece in a rich emerald green that complemented her fair skin and blonde hair beautifully. We exchanged nervous glances before carefully stepping into the lingerie.
The lace felt cool against my skin as I pulled the teddy up over my hips. It hugged my curves perfectly, as if it had been tailored specifically for my body. The cups lifted and shaped my breasts, presenting them like ripe fruit ready to be plucked.
As I adjusted the straps over my shoulders, I became acutely aware of the thong back. The delicate strip of lace nestled between my ass cheeks, a constant reminder of my exposure. I couldn’t suppress a whimper as the fabric brushed against my still-tender flesh, recalling Daddy Daniel’s rough use of my virgin anus.
Not virgin anymore, I thought with a whole-body shiver so ambiguous that it made me feel dizzy for a moment.
Miss Frieda’s sharp voice cut through the heavy silence. “Alright, girls. Over there.” She pointed to a pair of throne-like chairs positioned side by side at the far end of the room. The chairs were massive, their dark wood frames intricately carved in shapes I could see even at a distance were meant to depict the same implements of discipline that hung on the room’s walls. Thick cushions, covered in old leather, promised both comfort and decadence for whoever would occupy them.
“Kneel,” Miss Frieda commanded, her tone full of stern authority. “One in front of each chair.”
My heart pounding, I moved toward the chairs, my feet sinking into the deep pile of the carpet. The teddy clung to my curves, the lace catching slightly on my skin with each step. As I lowered myself to my knees before the left-hand chair, I felt the thong back slide deeper between my ass cheeks, eliciting a soft gasp.
Jenna took her place in front of the other chair, her movements mirroring my own. We shared a quick, anxious glance before fixing our gazes forward, our postures instinctively submissive.
Miss Frieda’s heels made no sound as she circled us, her critical eye taking in every detail of our presentation. “Backs straight,” she barked. “Shoulders back, chests out. Present yourselves properly for your daddies.”
We hurried to comply, arching our spines and thrusting our breasts forward. Our trainer circled us one final time, her critical gaze raking over our kneeling forms.
“Remember,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, “you are to remain exactly as you are until your daddies arrive. Any movement, any sound, and you’ll regret it deeply.”
With that ominous warning, she turned and strode toward the ornate double doors. The whisper of her nightgown and the staccato rhythm of her heels were the only sounds in the cavernous room. As she reached the threshold, Miss Frieda paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Your daddies for the evening will be here shortly to use you as they see fit. I suggest you prepare yourselves, girls.”
The heavy doors closed behind her with a gentle thud that seemed to reverberate through my very bones. In the sudden silence, I became acutely aware of every sensation—the soft pile beneath my knees, the delicate lace of the teddy clinging to my curves, the slight ache in my shoulders as I held the proper posture.
For several long moments, Jenna and I remained perfectly still, our breathing shallow and controlled. The air in the room felt thick with anticipation, heavy with the scent of leather and polished wood. I could hear the ticking of an unseen clock, each second stretching into eternity as we waited.
Finally, Jenna broke the silence with a whisper.
“I don’t understand what the fuck this is supposed to be doing for our rehabilitation,” she breathed, her voice barely audible even in the hushed room.
I turned my head slightly, catching Jenna’s eye. Her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink, the blush spreading down her neck and across her chest. The emerald lace of her teddy seemed to make the color even more vibrant, like a rose blooming against verdant leaves.
“I don’t either,” I murmured back, but even as the words left my lips, I felt a twinge of doubt. Deep down, in a place I was barely willing to acknowledge, I knew that wasn’t entirely true.