Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Then hot shame blossomed in my face, scalding me to my scalp, because I couldn’t even generate the impulse to defy the soothing, much-too-pleasant movements of my new boss’ hand. Worse, I felt a throb of… of gratitude. I sobbed, and though I tried to pretend to myself that the sound came from anger and shame and frustration, I knew that I’d made it to stop myself from saying thank you, sir.
What the… the hell did the horrid wand thing do? What had it done to my body? To my mind?
I whimpered, sobbed again, because Mr. Alden had begun to move his hand in little circles, on my right cheek, then on my left. Each one seemed to get a little closer to the center, traveling gradually downward and inward. He touched a place that felt like the paddle had visited my cheek there with particular force and I cried out not in pain but with the urgent contraction of my wayward vagina.
My… my… I realized that although it seemed like the compliance wand hadn’t given Mr. Alden complete control over my actual thoughts, the control he had over my body seemed to affect the ideas in my head, as if at some deep level my muscles and my nerve endings could override conscious thought. So as soon as I had thought the word vagina, something deeper inside me even than my brain had commanded that I use a different word—the filthy word my new boss had told me I must use for my private parts.
My… I couldn’t keep it back, couldn’t stop myself from thinking it. My hot, wet cunt.
Oh, no. I moaned, because I had clenched again, there, just at the thought of its dirtiest name. My new boss had made my cunt spasm with need.
Only then did I realize that I had just called him my new boss in my head—had done it several times already without noticing.
I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes firmly shut, willing it all to vanish into the dream—the bad dream, my reason declared, with all the authority it could muster—the scene had to be. Mr. Alden’s hand rubbed another pair of matched circles, so near to the gusset of my naughty panties that I cried out, my hips jerking as if to beg him for more.
“These panties are soaking, aren’t they, Ingrid Vogel?” he asked in a low, mocking voice.
I didn’t even actually know the answer, not for sure—and yet the sound of Mr. Alden’s voice, the very tone of his words, told me beyond any shadow of a doubt that he could see how wet I’d gotten the moment he put his hand on my rear end in place of the paddle.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes, sir. Oh…”
But I wasn’t allowed to speak unless he had asked me a question. I couldn’t even say please—even when I meant to beg him to command me, to degrade me further with his terribly skillful fingers.
“You need it very badly, don’t you, sweetheart?”
He put two fingers on the mesh that covered the burning nub where I felt neediest of all. He pressed lightly—much too lightly. I whimpered, arched my back, tried to push my private parts further out. The rational part of my brain tried to distract my body, keep it from answering, but the action of the wand took over. I told myself that the wand had taken over, anyway.
“Yes, sir,” I moaned.
“Well,” he said, “you’re going to get it very soon.”
His hands left me.
“Stand up and take off your blouse and your skirt. You’ve got a little more of your paddling to come before I fuck you.”
Automatically I straightened up. My hands went to the button at the neck of my silky white blouse. A frighteningly attractive idea rose unbidden in my brain, that the compliance wand had freed me from the mortification of having to strip of my own free will… because I wanted to show my new boss my naughty underwear… because I needed a fucking from an arrogant, dominant man whom I had to call sir as he enjoyed my helpless body.
“Turn around,” Mr. Alden commanded.
It felt like I had just stepped from his climate-controlled office into the broiling sun of a summer day. My whole body blushed. Again, though, as I obeyed, and saw that he had sat down in one of the armchairs at the other end of his vast office, I had the utterly unwelcome thought that really I should feel grateful that he had touched me with the wand. My brow creased hard and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I looked down at the rug. My fingers finished unbuttoning, and my hands traveled downward, to grasp the hem of the blouse, which had of course gotten completely untucked from the waistband of my skirt.