Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
I tried desperately to keep any sign of my roiling feelings off my face and away from Candy’s strangely penetrating, though also infuriatingly innocent, eyes. I managed not to bite my lip, but at the touch of my fingers on the topmost of the long, straight welts from Master Hendryk’s cane I couldn’t stop my brow from creasing. Sore, yes, but the little wince came just as much from the unwelcome, wayward surges of heat—shame in my cheeks and need between my thighs—as from the discomfort.
I thought suddenly of Master G, and sorrow added itself to the stew of emotions inside me. I had been the only girl who had to be whipped for disobedience… and I had thought myself such a good girl, so ready to go into service and start the new life my trainer had prepared me for—yes, at first at least, a life of sometimes-degrading sexual service, but one that against all my cultural expectations nevertheless suited me, as a young woman starting out in the world. And here I was in my owner’s house and I felt even more reluctant and unprepared than I had felt in my first days at the Institute.
I felt tears start to prickle my eyes, and to make it worse I saw Candy notice what had happened—the furtive touching of my backside and the little crease between my eyes. The anger threatened to win out: I took my hand from behind me and set my face into an expression I hoped looked scornful. I knew I wasn’t acting like the submissive bed girl Master G had trained, but I didn’t care. I needed to find some way of dealing with the here and now.
“Well,” I told Candy in a voice that helped instill a little more confidence in my chest with its firm tone, “do whatever you want, I guess. I’m getting in the shower.”
For a moment the artificial girl’s face showed what looked to me like wide-eyed fascination at a girl (me) whom I guessed Candy saw as her strange new playmate, or maybe even her toy—a real girl her master had told her she could play with. Then it became puzzled, as if she had just read the anger in my voice and found it confusing. Then, rather to my alarm, it turned into a bright, happy smile.
“Okay,” she said, and instantly reached down to strip her pretty blue nightgown off over her head. At the Institute, we had to wear our blue uniforms when we had been fucked that day; I wondered as I watched Candy’s gorgeous, sexy body come into view whether the same rule applied in Master Hendryk’s house. A strange clenching feeling came into my chest, and I turned away toward the shower so that she couldn’t see the deepening of the crease on my forehead at the thought of my new owner leaving his own bed, with me in it, to go to Candy’s in the early morning… to fuck his fake girl as his new real one slept off the effects of his brutal first use of her body for his enjoyment.
As I stepped toward the enormous, gleaming shower stall—really almost more of a glass-enclosed room than anything properly called a stall—I thought about Candy, about the idea of Candy. She herself didn’t really represent the problem, I understood. The Institute made very clear to all its concubines-in-training that they would likely end up in the possession of a billionaire who kept multiple bed girls.
Multiple real bed girls. I should be happy, shouldn’t I, that my bed sister didn’t mean competition on the level of, well, real relationships or something, shouldn’t I? I might have had to share my master with another young woman who had real feelings, like the other girls in my training group with whom I had had to share Master G?
“Oh,” I heard Candy say behind me, “Master makes such pretty marks. Your bottom looks lovely, Renee! I’m sure he’s going to fuck you there when he gets home. Master loves to fuck a whipped bottom!”
Oh, God. What the actual fuck? My brain searched furiously for some adequate reply. Do I say Thank you? Do I say Fuck you?
I said nothing. I reached for the golden handle of the glass door and started to open it. I tried to focus on how good the water from all those nozzles was going to feel.
Why did Candy’s presence make me feel so… scared, but also so reluctant and rebellious? I thought I could tell that she herself didn’t have much to do with it. Something about me made me feel like I might do something rash, something that as the concubine of a man like Master Hendryk would surely earn me another whipping much sooner than I could bear.
“I’ll let you look as closely at my cane stripes as you want!” Candy said as I stepped into the shower. “I’m pretty sure Master will make us kiss each others’ bottoms tonight, so maybe we should try it now?”