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Her Billionaire’s Demands by Emily Tilton

Eighteen-year-old Nikki Alvarez has a problem. After getting in trouble with the corporate authorities in her hometown, she now has a red flag on her record. Even after moving to Chicago, her only promising suitor doesn’t just know all about it, he plans to correct her himself.

Before the wealthy former military officer paddles Nikki’s bare bottom thoroughly for that transgression, she will be spanked until she calls him sir and strips for him as instructed. But the strict billionaire has far more humiliating things in mind for her than merely a bright red bottom.

Soon Nikki will be on her knees learning to thank him properly for a punishment, and continued disobedience will earn her the kind of lesson that leaves a naughty girl’s cheeks blushing crimson and her cute little bottom well-used and sore inside and out. But when she is informed that her beautiful body will be put on complete display for a select group of rich investors, will the thought of being watched as she is so shamefully dominated be more than she can bear?

Publisher’s Note: Her Billionaire’s Demands is a stand-alone book which is the second entry in the series The Institute: Shameful Arrangements. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Author: Emily Tilton

eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$3.95

Length: 44,000 words


It flashed into my mind that I couldn’t hope for any help from security—that they might even bring me back, might even want to watch me get punished, to be sure they had done their jobs properly and as the sponsor in question wished. The image sent a thrill of mortification through me, but I knew security didn’t have anything to do with why I remained atop the ‘coffee table.’

No, I stayed there because…

He’s paid for me. He bought me… now he will use me as he likes, and teach me what he chooses.

The blaze of heat in my whole upper body as I thought of the allowance and the gift and the still-unseen fancy lingerie felt like my skin might catch fire.

Bought and paid for. My virginity, after a lesson in proper conduct that I’ll never forget.

I heard a chime from my bedroom, and then a loud click.

“What?” I tried to ask, so surprised that I forgot about my humiliating gag.

Ben must have heard the muffled, incomprehensible sound, or perhaps he just wanted to make sure I understood precisely how much control he had over the apartment I had so foolishly thought my own home.

“Your bed has some very special features, Nikki,” he told me, his voice getting louder as he spoke. I understood that he must be approaching, carrying whatever he had, it seemed, retrieved from the hidden recesses of my bed. “Some of them are for good girls, and some of them are for naughty girls.”

His voice came from directly behind me now, and I twisted myself around so I could see him. What he had in his hands made me yelp in alarm. My right hand went to my mouth, to pull my panties out, so desperate did I feel the instinctive need to express myself clearly.

“Don’t you dare take those out of your mouth, Nikki,” Ben said sternly. For emphasis he tapped the thing—the paddle—in his right hand against the palm of the left, with a sharp sound that made my heart race. Black and stiff, its blade about the size of a paperback book, the paddle he had gotten from some secret compartment of my bed made my whole body shake.

He smiled when he saw that my hand had paused with my fingers at my lips, my eyes very wide.

“Operation Emerald is a chance for sponsors like me to show off the girls we support with our hard-earned money.”

My breath around the moist tangle of cotton in my mouth started to come in short gasps.

“Not like this,” Ben said, gesturing toward my backside with the paddle, his smile getting wider. Then his eyes narrowed, and my heart rate got even quicker. “Well, not like this all the time. The point is that we want you to show off, too. For example, if you take your paddling like a good girl, and you learn to please me afterward, I want you to tag my office.”

I blinked three times in rapid succession, trying to process, but his words still made very little sense to me. At my lips, my fingers tugged at the bit of elastic waistband that protruded there, on the verge of ending the humiliation of having my underwear in my mouth, of being gagged as only a very bad girl would be.

“Don’t you dare,” Ben repeated, raising his voice for the very first time. “Get your eyes forward and look at the floor. I’m going to punish you now for what you did to the town hall.”

The authority in his voice sent a new tremor through my limbs. I couldn’t seem to do anything but what he told me to do: I took my hand away from my mouth and I gripped the edge of the padded top of the table. I turned away, hung my head, and fixed my eyes on the soft beige carpet that always felt so nice on my bare feet, tears of shame already forming at the corners of my eyes as I understood. Nothing would keep me from receiving the justice Ben meant to do, the lesson he intended to give.

I felt his hand on my back again, holding me firmly in place at my waist, and then my sponsor started to paddle me, as I screamed in pain from the very first spank.

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