Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I lay there in the dark, trying to quiet my racing thoughts: the humiliating, terribly arousing photo shoot… Pierre… coffee… cameras watching here in my new home, like Theodore’s camera… Pierre, looking at my lewd photos.
I realized suddenly that my hand had drifted involuntarily between my legs, as if one part of me were trying to comfort another part, soothe me to sleep that naughty way. The memory of the photo shoot—of Mona’s whispered words, especially—rose again, much too vividly.
“He’s going to take your virginity tonight. He’s going to push his thick cock into your tight little pussy and make you his.”
My fingers slid beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts, finding the smooth, freshly waxed skin between my thighs. The unfamiliar sensation still startled me—the directness of the touch against bare flesh, smooth and, well, virginal. My breathing quickened as I imagined Pierre Lemieux looking at those photos of me, his elegant hands unfastening his expensive trousers, his cock hardening as he studied my exposed body.
Would he touch himself while looking at me? Part of me felt sure the thought should have disgusted me, but instead it sent a surge of wet heat between my legs. My fingers slid lower, finding slick evidence of my helpless arousal.
Your sponsor will have the right to observe and direct all aspects of your sexual response.
Had Nurse Georges really said that, in her dispassionate voice? Or was I making that up, part of this unwelcome fantasy? The words echoed in my mind as if the frightening older woman were here, in my apartment, standing over me and watching me play with myself. I swallowed hard, letting out a little whimper as I remembered the presence of the perineal sensor, silently monitoring my body’s every response. Was it active now? Were my responses being recorded, analyzed, added to my profile data?
The thought should have made me stop, should have horrified me. Instead, it intensified the heat building between my thighs. My fingers circled my clitoris, pleasure spiraling outward from that sensitive little bud. It seemed impossibly shameful that I could be playing with myself for the third time today, but everything about my life felt unmoored, and things I would never have contemplated suddenly seemed to force themselves upon me as necessities.
He’s going to fuck you in all your holes. He’s going to train you to please him in every way a woman can please a man.
Mona’s voice again, sultry and knowing. I gasped softly as my fingers moved faster, my hips rising slightly off the mattress to meet my own touch.
The image of Pierre Lemieux formed in my mind—those knowing hazel eyes, the elegant hands I imagined would be firm yet precise in their movements. What would it feel like to have those hands on my body? Would he be gentle with me, or would he expect immediate submission? My fingers moved more urgently now, pleasure building inside me like an ocean swell about to break.
Just as I felt myself approaching the edge of climax, my phone chimed loudly from the nightstand. I froze, my hand still between my legs, my breath coming in short gasps. The distinctive tone belonged to the SA app.
Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand from my shorts and reached for the phone. The screen glowed brightly in the darkness of the bedroom, making me squint.
Selecta Arrangements Notice: Masturbation Detected
My heart nearly stopped. They really were monitoring me, even now, in my bed. The message continued:
Based on extensive research data from successful SA pairings, we recommend edging rather than orgasm at this time. Orgasm denial has been shown to increase submissive response patterns by 78% during initial sponsor meetings.
For optimal results, please proceed to your bathroom and edge yourself while watching in the mirror. Visualization of your own submission significantly enhances preparedness for first sponsor contact.
I stared at the screen in disbelief, my face burning with mortification. Not only had they detected what I was doing, but they were now giving me instructions on how to masturbate? The clinical tone of the message somehow made it even more humiliating.
I should ignore it, I told myself. I should turn off the phone, finish what I’d started, and try to get some sleep before tomorrow’s coffee date.
And yet…
A part of me wondered if the advice might be helpful. If I wanted to make a good impression on Pierre Lemieux—and I did, I realized with a start, though I wasn’t sure why it suddenly mattered so much to me—perhaps I should follow the app’s suggestion. If Selecta had data showing this would help me appear more submissive…
Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. The lights came on automatically at a dim setting, just bright enough to see without being harsh. The large mirror above the double sink reflected my flushed face and tousled hair back at me.