Page 58 of Innocence Tamed
I ran my fingers over the soft fabric, wondering how many other girls had worn dresses chosen by Pierre before being punished in front of the Duboises.
“You’re not the first, you know,”MadameDubois said quietly, as if reading my thoughts. “But you are different from the others.”
I looked up at her, startled by her directness. “Different? How?”
She studied me for a moment, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. “Monsieurhas never looked at any of them the way he looks at you. I’ve served the Lemieux family for thirty years,Mademoiselle. I know when a man is merely playing and when he is… shall we say… invested.”
Her words sent a strange flutter through my chest that had nothing to do with the anxiety about my impending punishment. Pierre loved me. He’d said so, and I believed him. But hearingMadameDubois confirm that I was somehow special to him made it more real.
“I’m frightened,” I admitted, the confession slipping out before I could stop it.
MadameDubois nodded, her expression understanding rather than judgmental. “Of course you are. It’s natural to fear pain, to fear exposure.” She folded her hands neatly in front of her apron. “But may I speak frankly,Mademoiselle?”
I nodded, curious even in my mortification.
“I’ve seen how discipline can transform a young woman,” she continued, her voice gentle, but matter-of-fact. “I know how frightening it can be when a girl is just learning to submit, but you are very lucky thatMonsieurfound you. He can be hard on his young ladies, but he is truly thoughtful and kind.”
I felt my cheeks flush hotter at her words. There was something in her tone that suggested she knew more about submission than merely observing it in others. I wondered briefly about her relationship withMonsieurDubois, but pushed the thought away as too intrusive.
“Has he… has he caned many women?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
MadameDubois’ lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile. “Monsieuris quite skilled with all instruments of correction. You needn’t fear excessive harm—only the pain necessary for your lesson.” She gestured to the dress. “Shall we prepare you? It’s nearly time.”
CHAPTER 28
Audrey
I nodded, rising shakily to my feet and letting the robe fall away. I stood naked before her, fighting the urge to cover myself. After what she had witnessed in the paddock, modesty seemed pointless now.MadameDubois reached behind her and produced a box I hadn’t noticed before. “Monsieurasked me to give you this,” she said, setting it on the bed. “For your preparation.”
I recognized the elegant black box with the Selecta logo embossed in silver. I lifted the lid with unsteady hands. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, lay another beautiful lingerie set—black lace so fine it was nearly transparent. I lifted the basque with trembling fingers, feeling the delicate boning that would shape my waist and push up my small breasts.
“It’s lovely,” I whispered, genuinely awed by the craftsmanship. Beneath the basque lay matching suspenders, sheer black nylons, and the tiniest pair of lace panties imaginable.
“Monsieurhas excellent taste,”MadameDubois said with approval. She moved to the closet, surveying the few pairs of shoes I’d brought with me. After a moment’s consideration, she selected a pair of glossy black stilettos I’d packed on impulse but never expected to wear. “These will complete the ensemble perfectly.”
She laid the shoes beside the lingerie, then looked at me expectantly. “Do you know how to put on the suspenders properly? The panties go on outside them, of course.”
My face blazed with heat as I nodded, remembering the humiliating photoshoot that seemed so very long ago. “Yes, I know,” I said quietly.
Aimee helped me into the lingerie with the efficiency of someone accustomed to dressing and undressing others. First came the nylons, rolling up my legs with whisper-soft caresses. The basque required more effort, Aimee working behind me to fasten the long row of hooks that ran up my spine. I gasped as she pulled it tight, the garment cinching my waist and pushing my breasts upward. Quickly she snapped the dangling suspenders to the tops of the stockings.
“There,” she said, stepping back to assess her work. “Now the panties.” She handed me the scrap of black lace, and I stepped into them, pulling them up over the suspender straps as instructed.
Finally, Aimee helped me into the blue dress, zipping it carefully over my newly corseted form. The silky fabric slid over the lace underneath, creating a sensual friction against my skin. When I stepped into the high heels, I felt like a stranger to myself; not Audrey Campbell, but a young woman prepared for discipline, for surrender.
I looked atMadameDubois, puzzled by one aspect of this elaborate preparation. “I thought I would be punished in the nude,” I said, looking down at all the beautiful clothingMadameDubois had just helped me into.
“Eventually, of course, you will be nude,”MadameDubois replied as she smoothed an invisible wrinkle from my dress. “But I find there is a certain wisdom in including the gradual stripping of a girl’s clothes away as part of her punishment. It heightens the anticipation, for both the one administering discipline and the one receiving it, as well as helping to make the young lady feel as ashamed of her misconduct as she should.”
The way she spoke—with such quiet authority and personal knowledge—made me wonder again about her own experiences. Had she once (or often?) stood where I now stood, dressed beautifully only to be systematically undressed for correction?
MadameDubois checked her watch. “It’s time.Monsieuris waiting in the library.”
My stomach clenched as she opened the door and gestured for me to precede her into the hallway. Each step in the high heels echoed against the polished floor, marking my inevitable progress toward punishment. The lingerie beneath my dress felt like a secret, shameful reminder of what was to come—layers that would be revealed one by one before my final humiliation.
“The cane,” I whispered as we descended the grand staircase. “Will it… hurt very much?”
MadameDubois’ expression remained professional, though I thought I detected a flash of sympathy in her eyes. “Yes,Mademoiselle. The cane is designed to hurt. ButMonsieurknows exactly how much pain to administer—enough to teach the lesson, but never more than necessary.”
