Page 25 of His to Enjoy
With a little whimper I pushed the thoughts away. Back in my bedroom, I pulled on a simple cotton nightgown—one of the few modest items that had made it into my new wardrobe. But even its familiar softness couldn’t quiet my racing thoughts. I kept imagining Scott reading my report, seeing my suggestion about Debbie’s humiliation, perhaps deciding to implement somethingsimilar with me. Would he show someone a video of me touching myself? The thought should have been horrifying, but instead I felt that treacherous warmth beginning below my waist again.
I pressed my thighs together hard, remembering the rule against touching myself without permission. The frustration of denied release only intensified my arousal, creating a vicious cycle that kept me tossing and turning for hours. When I finally drifted off, my dreams were filled with leather straps and firm hands, with Scott’s voice commanding me to spread wider, to take more, to thank him for my correction.
CHAPTER 13
Scott
I reviewed Grace’s latest report Friday morning with considerable satisfaction. Her analysis ofRuth’s Punishmentdemonstrated again exactly the kind of psychosexual insight I’d hoped my lovely, still in many ways wonderfully innocent new intern could develop under this unorthodox method of cultivation. The suggestion about introducing a suitor to witness Debbie’s arousal was particularly inspired—creative, degrading, ultra-hot, and perfectly aligned with our target demographics’ preferences for the darker extremities of discipline and submission delivered with a wholesome sweetness.
I glanced at my watch. Grace would arrive in a few minutes for our first weekly meeting. The thought of her walking through my door, clutching those plastic bags containing her soiled panties, sent a pulse of anticipation straight to my cock. I’d watched the surveillance footage of her completing each assignment. The way she’d twisted the sophisticated ivory satin panties into her needy slit, working the fabric desperately between the pouting pink lips during Ruth’s punishment, had been particularlycaptivating. But there was something about making her hand over the physical evidence, forcing her to acknowledge what she’d done, that appealed to me on an even deeper level.
My phone buzzed with a message from Van Gregory in Assessment.Got to hand it to you. Grace’s metrics look very promising. She recalibrated last night while she was watching the video.
I smiled at the news. A recalibration—a girl’s feeling more physical pleasure than yet recorded in her data feed—was a highly unusual occurrence for a young woman with so much experience of New Modesty life and its regular wifely duties in service of a husband’s pleasure.
Grace was different from other women I’d trained for Selecta. Her genuine conflict between arousal and shame, the way she fought against her nature even as she surrendered to it, made every interaction electric. I’d supervised dozens of corporate submissives, but none had captured my attention quite like this former New Modesty bride with her analytical mind and responsive body.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. “Come in.”
Grace entered. Her face was already flushed, and she clutched a small paper bag against her chest like armor. She wore a white dress, its hem reaching to just above her knees. She seemed to me so innocent in it that it made my heart ache even as my cock gave a little leap against my thigh.
“Good morning, Grace. Please, sit.” I gestured to the chair across from my desk, deliberately maintaining the professional tone that I knew would confuse her after the intimacy of our previous encounters.
She sat carefully, the dress riding up slightly to reveal the lace tops of her stockings. I let my gaze linger just long enough for her to notice before returning my attention to my computer screen.
“Your reports have been excellent,” I said, pulling up her latest analysis. “The suggestion about the suitor is particularly compelling. We’re going to film something similar next week.”
Her eyes widened. “You are?”
“Based on your recommendation, yes.” I leaned back in my chair, studying her reaction. “Your insights are shaping our content, Grace. How does that make you feel?”
She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs pressing together in that telltale way. “I… I don’t know, sir.”
“I think you do.” I stood and moved around the desk, stopping directly in front of her. “Put the bag on the coffee table.”
Grace
I watched, my face burning hotter than the sun as Scott took the plastic bags from the paper bag. My hands gripped the arms of the chair as he lifted each one to the light, examining the contents with unmistakable satisfaction. The blue lace from the first video, twisted and stained. The ruined black thong. The ivory satin, darkened with evidence of my desperate need.
He opened the first bag slowly, deliberately, and pulled out the blue panties. The scent hit me immediately—musky, intimate,shameful, filling his office with the unmistakable evidence of what I’d done. My pussy clenched with mortification and that terrible, unwanted arousal as he held them up, letting the delicate fabric dangle from his fingers.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, bringing them closer to examine the stained gusset. “You really soaked these, didn’t you? I watched the footage, of course, but there’s something about the physical evidence…” He inhaled deeply, and I wanted to die from embarrassment even as fresh wetness gathered between my thighs.
He set the blue panties on the coffee table, moving the empty bags to his desk. He opened the second plastic bag, extracting the destroyed black thong. “This one’s my favorite,” he said conversationally, stretching the fabric to show how I’d pulled it, twisted it in my desperation. “You worked so hard to get yourself off, pulling this between your pussy lips. Such dedication to your assignment.”
“Please,” I whispered, though I didn’t know what I was begging for. For him to stop? To continue? My body couldn’t seem to decide, caught between humiliation and arousal.
The ivory panties came last, and he spent the longest time with these, turning them over in his hands, running his thumb across the darkened satin. “Ruth’s punishment really affected you, didn’t it? The anal discipline, the complete submission…” He looked directly at me. “Stand up, Grace.”
I obeyed on trembling legs, smoothing my white dress with nervous hands.
“I want to try something with you,” he said, setting all three pairs of panties on the coffee table in a neat row. “To see how suitableyou are for advancement within my department. This is a test of sorts.”
My stomach dropped. “A test?”
I understood at some deep level what the test would be—or maybe just how utterly degrading—before he even spoke the words. My legs felt like water as he gestured to the floor beside the coffee table.
“Kneel here,” he commanded softly.
