Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Mandy
April’s voice seemed to come from farther away than it should.
“Reba, I should take a look, since I’m her sponsor.”
“Sure, Mrs. Dennison,” the aesthetician responded. Reba, too, sounded far away although she was sitting on her wheeled stool right between my spread legs.
Hi, said the observer, the wanton girl, me and not-me, who liked to watch. Who got so hot and wet down there, when she watched the humiliation of the rest of me.
“Wait…” I whispered, but Reba had wheeled her stool out of the way. April could see, in the mirror, what Rick had done to his young bride’s naughty backside, when he had taken her in hand the night before. The young bride could see, too, and the voyeur inside her could watch her see…
I could see, and I couldn’t look away. I saw my pussy, the cleft my husband had used so forcefully for his pleasure, as I lay face down over the pillows. I saw the golden curls he had decided to have removed, and the pink inner lips peeking out as if to tell anyone who took my panties down how naughty a girl I was. I saw the tiny, rosy dimple of my anus, where Rick would have his way tonight, unless I found some means to stop the craziness.
Then I let out a little sob at the tracery of purple bruises that covered my bottom-cheeks and my upper thighs. I felt my hips buck against the webbing around my waist. A terrible, unwelcome surge of need that went through me. The soreness from Rick’s belt had faded, but when my muscles tensed down there a wave of ache seemed to travel the entire region, awakening all the shameful places he had claimed as his property.
My pussy clenched so hard I could hardly believe the spasm wasn’t obvious to April and Reba. I thanked heaven that it wasn’t. At least my inability to stop looking at my whipped backside, my spread pussy and bottom, had let me see that: the clench had been invisible, even if the movement of my hips had betrayed too much of my body’s helpless reaction.
April’s voice sounded even more distant when she spoke, with words I knew she meant as reassurance.
“You didn’t look this morning, honey, did you?” she asked, and I had a moment’s terror that I would have to answer the question. April seemed to have meant it rhetorically, though; she went right on, “I couldn’t, that first morning, and Scott didn’t whip me anywhere near as hard as Rick must have whipped you—that first night, anyway. After I had to get carried in here, that second whipping… it was really strict, and Scott made me look at my butt the next morning.”
I swallowed hard. While April spoke, Reba had moved back across to her cart, hiding the view of my spread private parts. I heard a click and an angry buzz.
“I’m just going to give you a quick trim to make the waxing easier, Mrs. Williams,” Reba said, and then without any further ado and without any effort to get my permission, she started to do that.
The feeling—the terribly, wickedly pleasant feeling—took me completely by surprise. I let out a little sob, and once again my hips strained desperately against the belt that kept me fastened to the humiliating chair. The shameful warmth in my pussy grew much too intense to keep an equally hot blush from my cheeks.
To my strangely mingled horror and relief, April started talking again.
“Don’t worry, Mandy. It’s totally natural. It’s, you know, a lot like a, you know…”
Her voice fell to a stage whisper that was still barely audible over the noise from the clipper.
“Vibrator. Do you even know about those, a well-bred girl like you?”
I swallowed hard, again; I seemed to have way too much saliva in my mouth. “Kind of?” I said in a strained voice. Reba moved the clipper over my pussy, and I had to bite my lower lip to keep from whimpering. She moved it further down, between my bottom-cheeks. I couldn’t stop the little sob at that sensation.
“Well, if you’re a lucky girl like me,” April went on as if I weren’t making a wanton spectacle of myself, “your hubby will know a lot about them.”
I had started to breathe hard, through nearly closed lips—the kind of breathing, I realized, they taught expectant mothers to do. It seemed to ward off the pleasure a little bit, but also to make it more intense. Reba’s clipper seemed to be spending much too much time around the mortifying, forbidden little ring that Rick had promised to train for his enjoyment.
“Even, you know,” April said, and then changed her voice to another stage whisper, “back there… well, it feels really good once you get used to it.”
My forehead furrowed deeply. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. To my distress, the clipper back there felt much too good already.