She gazed at me for a long moment, her striking eyes watching me closely, as if to ascertain what it was I really intended.
Truthfully at that moment, all I’d set out to do was to get a good idea of the body she was hiding under those clothes. The day I’d walked up to her as she’d bent over to vacuum my stairs, I’d gotten a fine glimpse at the mouthwatering shape of her lush bottom, the pleasing broadness of her hips. They were the kind of hips that made a man think of one thing above all else—putting a baby in his woman, breeding her. Making her swell with the irrefutable evidence of his dominion over her body in that most elemental, primitive of ways.
“Why do you… why do you want me to take my clothes off?”
It was a delaying tactic, of course. We both knew.
I decided not to answer, instead staring at her, not letting her see any hint of emotion or intent.
This was a test, of sorts. Obedience was the paramount characteristic in women I thought might have inclinations toward being the kind of woman I sought nowadays. Yes, she was clearly too young for me. But there was little I could do to resist her beauty, and that difference in age only amplified my interest. It was new and interesting—and it was something I’d never experienced before, taking and molding a woman much younger than me.
What I was certain of was that the training of her to my desires and requirements would be much easier, less polluted by her experience, the assumptions that her relationships with too many previous men might have saddled her with.
I couldn’t help but wonder about that, the other men who’d had her. How they’d used that body, and how she’d reacted to that use. So many questions.
But before we could get to any of that there was the simplest—and most important—of attributes that I needed to ascertain first.
I sighed, narrowing my eyes just the slightest bit, suddenly putting pressure on her. Part of this, too, was seeing how she reacted to that pressure, whether or not she folded underneath it, or blossomed into the woman I hoped she might be.
Fortunately, she seemed to respond in the way I was hoping, her finger already fiddling with the hem of her shirt. I still wasn’t sure what to make of the sort of clothing she wore, her sartorial choices somewhere between slovenly and vagabond.
Certainly, being a maid couldn’t have paid that much. But there was a strange element of almost frugality about her that prompted yet more questions. It wasn’t miserliness, no, but it did seem as if it might be something deeper.
“I… I don’t know why you want me to do this.”
I said it in a tone soft enough that she would have to struggle to hear it. “I want you to do it for the most important reason of all. Because I told you to.”
Her long lashes fluttered at that, but her now visibly trembling fingers drew up the hem of that dark sweatshirt. The pale flatness of her belly was pleasing to the eye, as was the size of her generous breasts supported in a plain, mauve-colored bra. Her brassiere was almost certainly too small for her frame though, her tits practically spilling out of its embrace.
Pulling her top over her head, she threaded her pretty locks of hair through it, then dropped the sweatshirt behind her on the couch. Though I expected her to balk here, she pleased me with moving quickly to undoing the button at the front of her jeans. Her dark eyes raised to mine, and she glared at me, making me wonder if she were angry—or perhaps something else entirely.
Be patient, Ellis.
Rushing it would never do, and besides, the entire purpose of the exercise was to see what she would do herself, without prompting, to learn what she would take on of her own free will.
What I’d seen thus far looked very encouraging indeed.
She pushed her jeans down her thighs, wiggling her hips slightly as she did so, the motion making my cock begin to stir. She was very, very pretty, and in a way that I wasn’t sure I’d ever encountered before. She possessed an interesting mixture of both purity and licentiousness, which was a word I didn’t think I’d ever used to describe a woman. But it fit her, somehow. I just needed to find out the reason why.
Watching the length of her trim, firm thighs revealed inch by inch had me hard already. It wasn’t that I had a particular thing for legs, but hers definitely did things for me.
She bent down facing me, her jeans pooled at her feet, obscuring the scuffs and stains upon her shabby shoes. I found it interesting that she worked in essentially a pair of sneakers, and worn ones at that. It was another subtle clue, prompting more questions. There would be time for that later though.
Her gaze flicked up at me then, her eyes watching me through the fringe of her hair even as she was still bent over, a slight smudge of pink at each of her cheeks.
“Why are you stalling? Get it all off. I want to see that body.”
Her pale, slender throat worked at that, her pretty mouth falling open for a moment. She made a tiny sound deep in her chest as her gaze slid away. Submerging her fingers under the mound over her jeans, she slipped her shoes off, kicking the denim away from one foot, then the other. She quickly peeled her white socks off as well, revealing cute and quite petite feet. I most definitely wasn’t a foot guy, but I found Lola’s surprisingly attractive, matching the rest of her in their beauty.
She straightened then, and I had to adjust myself suddenly as I switched positions on the couch. It would never do to let her see how much of an effect she was already having on me. I would only let on the truth of that when the time was right. Still, my cock was aching hard, pressing insistently against the front of my slacks, already knowing where it wanted to be—and who it wanted. Right here, and right now.
Her panties were a different color than her bra and off white, with a tiny lace fringe along the waistband. The clutch of the gusset over the mons of her sex was quite brazen, like the hand of a lover, possessive, insistent, at the same time perfectly displaying the mouthwatering contours of her pussy. I longed to have it revealed, my willingness to wait for her to obey me on her own time growing increasingly thin with every second more.
“All of it, Lola.”
It was her turn to sigh now, and I loved the way it lifted those round breasts of hers. Oh, how I wanted to see them, to feel them fill my hands. Reluctance poured off of her then, but it didn’t stop her from doing as she was told, much to my delight. She reached behind her back and unclasped the bra, laying a hand across the front of her breasts for a moment as the band of the bra fell loose at either side of her. She gazed down at the floor as she allowed the brassiere to fall to the carpet.
I waited for a heartbeat to see if she would move her arm out of the way, and I wondered if this would be an issue with her. Even if it was, I would be happy to correct her for it.
But first, I needed to see how much she understood the importance of obedience to my will.
Her face blushing crimson now, she let her arms hang at her sides, revealing the full loveliness of her breasts to my gaze. She was blessed with wine-dark nipples and broad, smooth pink areolas a shade or two lighter. A fine tracery of blue-green veins was just visible here and there under the almost translucent paleness of her skin. Her breasts were absolutely beautiful, and at the same time my mind instantly went to how I might use them, how I’d punish them when she’d displeased me. I was a connoisseur of the disciplining and punishment of a woman’s breasts, and while I was also a huge fan of spanking and the myriad other ways of punishing a woman’s bottom, I found that hurting a woman’s breasts got through to her in a way almost nothing else did. It was a critical technique in a man’s toolbox when it came to training a woman, and breaking her to his will.
But she wasn’t close to done.
“Now, take those panties down. And you’d better do it slowly, or else.”
It might have been a little bold, perhaps pushing my luck a little more than I should have, but I just couldn’t help myself. The girl was impossibly beautiful, provoking me, my lust short-circuiting my better judgment, overruling any inclination I might have had to take things a little slower.
Her eyes were big and bright, as if the tears were gathering but the storm of her emotions hadn’t quite forced them to fall yet. I very much looked forward to seeing them do just that.
Soon, Ellis. Soon.
Shockingly, she didn’t protest, and it was something I found to be very encouraging indeed. For it was in these initial few minutes of a woman finding out what it really meant to submit to a man’s commands, that told the tale of what might be possible, given sufficient training and ruthlessness of purpose.
As she drew the cotton down those thighs, those same thighs I very much wanted to touch, I watched her in silence, the tension in the room ratcheting still higher. The moment was drawn out, as if time had slowed, the erotic connection between us deepening, my anticipation, my eagerness to see what was next growing with the promise of what was still to come.
Finally, her sex was revealed fully to my gaze. I was pleased to see that she didn’t, like so many other women seemed to do nowadays, shave her pussy entirely. The dark shock of curls adorning her mons was alluring and deeply sexual, in a way that had become almost quaint, even rare, in modern times. I very much looked forward to running my fingers through those curls, to tugging on them just enough to make her wince, to murmur in her ear how silky and smooth they were between my fingers, how base and sexual her thick bush made her to men who saw it.
Then the panties were pooled at her feet, and she kicked those away too. Later I would teach her how to properly disrobe, to neatly fold and set aside her clothing. It was an expression of her obedience, her attention to detail, knowing that a man like me expected her to be pleasing in all things she did—especially if they were at my express order. Those were subtleties, details she would yet have to learn, and likely at the cost of much pain to her bottom, her breasts, and likely her tender spirit as well. For training a young woman was much more than just physical chastisement, far deeper then really punishing her for her faults, and it would take time and a profound understanding of what it was that made her tick, what it was that she really needed.
And if I were very lucky, a man like me would discover that what a woman like her truly yearned for was to please, serve, and submit. To give herself to a male who was strong, strict, and cruel. Who knew how to give her what that dark, secret part of her heart craved most of all.
“You’re a very pretty girl, Lola. Did you know that?”
If anything, she blushed even deeper then, my words making it clear that I could see all of her attributes, driving home the fact that I would allow her to hide nothing from me, that everything was laid before my gaze.
And that I found it most pleasing indeed.
For a young, inexperienced woman, being taken in hand by a more seasoned male, a man who appreciated the finer details of dominating and forcing a woman to bend to his will, such moments could be overwhelming for her. I would savor that, too, enjoying her discomfiture, even her embarrassment. For it was all part of this, an intimate and sometimes shattering exploration of what it truly meant to surrender to a man. A man strong enough, and cruel enough, to lead her down a path to what she’d always needed, but perhaps never understood.
“Now, Lola, I want you to put your hands behind your head. Yes, just like that. No, lace your fingers together and keep them there. Good.”
Her position lifted and displayed her breasts in a mouthwatering way, and I longed to squeeze them, hurt them, savor her moans as I kneaded that soft flesh in hard, cruel hands. I would crush those red nipples between my fingertips, drinking in the soul-deep gasps as the pain overtook her, as her body yielded to my touch.
It was my turn to stand then, and I stalked slowly toward her, her brilliant gaze watching me, never leaving me for even a heartbeat, as if by keeping her eye on me, I might yet decide not to pounce on her, to take what we both knew I could have for myself, if I decided to go down that dark road.
But I had no intention of doing so. Taking a woman against her will held zero interest to me, and even more so with one so untested, so untried as this young woman. No, my goal was something else entirely, to lead her down that path willingly, to convince her to take those first steps on a journey that would lead her ultimately to her life’s purpose, and to her heart’s deepest desires. That, as rare as it was, was far more fulfilling for a man like me.
Then I was standing before her, a hand’s breadth away from her, the heat of her body upon my skin. With a single finger, I lifted her chin, forcing her to look up into my eyes. And though her pretty plump lips quivered so fetchingly, what I saw in her gaze was a devastating combination of fright, curiosity, and most surprisingly of all, naked lust.
“Lola. You can’t hide from me. There’s nothing you can hide from me. Not ever.”
“I don’t understand… any of this,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving mine. “Who… why are you doing this?”
I smiled at her then, and a shiver seemed to travel down her body. “You don’t need to worry about any of that, Lola. The only thing that should concern you for the next few minutes is doing exactly as you’re told. Being good, and obedient, and showing a willingness to please me, those are the only things you should be thinking about. Now, and as long as you’re under this roof. As long as you’re taking this job. Do you understand me?”
Her mouth opened as if she would answer me, but I took hold of her right breast, giving it a firm squeeze. Her lashes fluttered frantically, clearly signaling I’d taken her by surprise. Just as I had intended.
I took her other breast in hand now, lifting its luscious weight upon my palm, testing the pliancy of her flesh, kneading those breasts until she whined through gritted teeth. I was already getting through to her.
“These might be the most gorgeous tits I’ve ever seen,” I said, staring into her eyes. I squeezed her breasts harshly, gripping them with a fierceness that matched my passion. “Do they hurt?”
“Yes…” she whispered, her eyes closed. A deep line had formed across her brow, her mouth opening in a gasp once more as I took both her nipples in my fingers, pinching and twisting them savagely.
I worked those thick, hard nipples until they stood out swollen, inflamed, a deep red that called to me, provoking me further. I had a set of clamps that would be perfect for these nipples, and I very much looked forward to them squeezing her flesh between their jaws, watching the glistening tears course down her cheeks as she contended with that sharp bite of pain. But it wasn’t yet time for that.
For there was a significant chance that all I would ever have was this hour. Part of this test was to weed out those who simply couldn’t deal with the type of arrangement that I was interested in. There was no shame in that, for those who concluded it simply wasn’t for them, and I would not blame a woman for deciding against agreeing to my arrangement.
Force could be sexy, yes, but only in controlled, negotiated circumstances. I would never force my desires upon a woman who wasn’t prepared to see it through, who didn’t herself want to see where that dark road led.
“Turn around, Lola. I want to get a good look at that ass that you had displayed for me so nicely that day I first walked in on you.”
Her eyes shot up to mine once more. “I didn’t—that isn’t what I was doing that day. I was working…”
I shrugged. “Perhaps you were. But your pretty, round ass was on display nonetheless. You must have understood how you looked, how a man like me might react. Or perhaps you didn’t. Which makes you even more intriguing, Lola.” I gave her nipples one last hard squeeze, reveling in the way she winced. “Unfortunately for you, intriguing a man like me can have painful, even embarrassing consequences. You’d better know exactly what you’re up to tempting me like this.”
Taking hold of her shoulders then, I brusquely spun her around until her ass was facing me. “You stay right there. I want to get a good look at this big bottom of yours. I have many plans for it, if you decide to come back after this hour. I want you to know, that in your near future there’s going to be many times where you’re going to regret that God blessed you with such a gorgeous ass. As the tears stream down your face, you’re going to wish you weren’t so blessed, that your curves weren’t quite so dramatic. Or maybe you won’t. What if in those moments, you discover something about yourself? A quiet dark truth in that pain, in that humiliation, in being objectified. Maybe it would force you to confront who it is you really are?”
While coursing my hands down the smooth muscles of her back, I reveled in the silkiness of her skin, the scent of her sex just barely detectable on the air now. I wondered if it was from arousal, or if perhaps it had simply been a while since she’d showered, the fragrance of her pussy deepening, becoming more pungent and powerful, and even more alluring to the male animal.
I loved the way her waist dipped in, then immediately swelled out, the curve of those hips dramatic, making my cock throb as I traced those pretty lines, then down to those smooth, muscled thighs, soft yet firm all at once. Down, down those legs I went, taking a moment to cup and squeeze the muscles of her calves. Then back up I went, wrapping my hands around the front of her legs, feeling every curve, plane, and contour, pausing again at her thighs to give them a deep squeeze that made her moan softly.
Allowing my fingers to dip into the hot humidity between her upper thighs just beneath her sex, my cock throbbed at the sensation of her silky pubic hair tickling the backs of my fingers.
But I assiduously avoided touching her pussy. This wasn’t about that, not now. This was about exploring what I increasingly, with every minute, thought of as mine. Of course I was getting much too far ahead of myself, but I couldn’t help it. With every second I spent with my hands upon this woman’s flawless body, I was more and more sure that I would do almost anything to get her to submit it to me, to surrender to my deepest, most twisted lusts. To make her give me everything that she was.
You need to fucking calm down, dude.
I stroked and caressed the soft, impossibly gorgeous buttocks, feeling their weight, the yielding of her flesh. I lifted both of those broad globes upon my palms just as I had her breasts, and squeezed them hard, until she rose up on her toes whining softly, the tips of my fingers turning white as I savagely squeezed her firm flesh. I fondled her that way for a long moment, lifting one cheek then slapping the other, letting her flesh drop so that I could watch it bounce, smacking it this way and that, loving the way my fingertips left faint pink marks upon her alabaster flesh.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, my cock so hard now it was painful. Having her buttocks in my hands like this, it made me want to do so much more to her. But it simply wasn’t time for that. Yet.
It was something she still had to choose.
And even though I’d been pushing her, pushing her quite hard actually, there was no way this was going to go further without her cooperation. Without her opening that door herself.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to take a few liberties here and there, while she decided what it was she wanted to do.
After playing with her lush bottom for what seemed to be an eternity, and yet not nearly long enough, I turned her around once more to face me. Her blushing was fierce now, her face beet red as she peered up at me. I was very pleased however to see that she still kept her hands behind her head, just as I had ordered her to. It was a very encouraging sign. But more than that, it made me a little bit proud of her too.
Don’t go there, Ellis. This isn’t about any of that. This is about lust, nothing more.
I held her chin in my hand, a necessary gesture really, for her bright eyes were locked upon mine, the tears brimming but not yet falling. But still I enjoyed the meaning behind it, the possessiveness, and the way it made females respond. Judging by the steel hardness of her nipples, and the way her breaths came quick and almost frantic now, I suspected she was just the type of female who would respond to a man handling her in a way that was possessive, brusque, proprietary. I didn’t know how it was happening so fast, but she really was beginning to feel like she was mine. All of her.
“Now I want you to listen to me, Lola. Are you listening?”
She nodded slightly. “Yes, I… yes, I am.”
“Good. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go back and sit down on the couch. Then you’re going to walk over to me, with your arms and your hands just where they are right now. So that those big tits of yours will be nicely on display as you walk toward me. They please me, and I like looking at them. You’ll show them to me in just the way that I command you. Do you understand?”
“Oh, my God…” She swallowed, hard, her pretty little throat working. “Yes.”
“Then when you walk over to me, and display those big breasts for me to look at and enjoy, you’re going to lie over my lap. You’re going to do it very carefully and respectfully. You’re not to say a single word. Unless I ask you a direct question, I want you as silent as a mouse. Got me?”
She shuddered then, her nostrils flaring. But then she met my eyes again and nodded. “Yes…”
“Yes, sir,” I prompted her, giving her a half smile. “I think we’re at that point now. You’ll call me sir, or Mr. Winters. When we’re in public, it’ll be the latter, but when it’s just you and me here? It’s to be sir. Nod if you agree.”
I grinned at the quickness with which she acquiesced. It betrayed a slight eagerness, and it was something I relished very much. I did not want to get ahead of myself, but it had been a very long time indeed since I’d come across a female as interesting and promising as this young woman named Lola Grant was proving to be.
“Once I have you over my lap where you belong, I want you to be very still. Be as still as you possibly can. Then, when I’m ready, I’m going to spank your bare bottom.”
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