Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Appointments and reminders placed on your calendar by sponsor Christian G. Do you want to hear the details?”
With a rush of hot blood to my cheeks I remembered something that I had hoped Christian himself would have forgotten—something I had wanted to think a joke, or a passing whim. Suddenly I had a suspicion that today, at least, might go faster than I had supposed it would.
“Yes?” I said, my voice quavering.
“Tonight at nine p.m.,” the apartment’s pleasant feminine voice said. “Event: rub your naughty pussy and train your anus for your sponsor’s cock. Location: in your bed, with your knees spread and raised to show you’re being a good girl.”
Something about the way the voice just said those obscene things made it seem twice as shameful. I felt my face pucker, and I swallowed hard—even as I realized that my hand had unconsciously gone between my legs and inside my pink cotton panties to feel the smooth, sealed pussy lips, the seam running down between them almost like a closed zipper.
What if… my brain began, and I shuddered at the dark, wild fantasy that had formed in a split second. What if my keeper installed a zipper… one of the ones that you can lock, like on a suitcase…
“Oh, God,” I whispered, as I felt the muffled pleasure of my fingertips’ desperate pressure. My bottom squirmed, and I moved my hips as if I could find more pleasure from my self-caress if I pushed my closed pussy against my hand—or as if I were trying to move my pussy on the nonexistent hard cock of a ghostly, dominant man fucking me in my aching, needy hole.
The apartment had continued speaking, though.
“Tomorrow at five p.m.… Event: dinner with Christian, location Carrefour Restaurant. Christian will pick you up at your apartment. Next alert: reminder from sponsor Christian G.”
I frowned, not understanding the last part, but then I heard Christian’s voice come over the speaker.
“Remember, Rebel. You’re not to play with yourself if you want your sweet little pussy opened up Friday night.”
My hand froze. The apartment spoke for itself again.
“Masturbation detected. Alert sent to sponsor Christian G.”
CHAPTER 30
Leah
My phone buzzed a minute later, after I had gotten guiltily out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, feeling acutely the strangeness between my thighs, a gentle but distracting tugging with each step.
That’s alright, Leah. You’re getting used to it. But don’t let it happen again.
I looked around the bathroom, as if I could see the cameras that I knew must keep watch on this room, just like the rest of ‘my’ apartment. To my dismay the surge of heat in my body, at the realization that of course Christian could watch me here, too, didn’t merely go to my face. Would I ever get used to the way my body responded to every new reminder of my submission to a wealthy, arrogant man?
I tried to stay busy. At 9:30 I got an important assist with that, when I got a text that stunned me.
Hi Leah! I’m Rebecca, Christian’s assistant. Christian asked me to set up a meeting with you to look at possible job opportunities in some of the production companies he works with. Can you come into the office at 11?
My jaw went slack. I hadn’t even really paid attention to the hints Christian had dropped about how he thought I had a future. I had obviously thought I had a future… a life presumably of figuring out the next thing I could stumble through. But a real future?
A story that would keep unfolding, with dark and wayward parts, yes, but leading to a happy—wantonly happy, maybe—ending? My billionaire sponsor, the man who had used me like a whore and planned to keep me as a degraded fuck toy, as the co-author of that happy ending?
My fingers trembled as I typed back, Sure!
I only hesitated over how many exclamation points to use. I decided I had to put one there because otherwise I sounded surly. Ten days ago I might have been very happy to sound surly, back in Harristown and trying to make my way in the New Modesty, not really understanding how I had even ended up there. Today, embarrassingly, shamefully, I knew: I needed to serve a man’s lust… to have him take me firmly in hand and train me for his bed… to learn an old-fashioned lesson when I misbehaved… all of it, if I hoped to find real happiness.
How could I ever feel surly again, when the man who had decided to teach me to please his huge, hard cock also thought me worthy of a different kind of career?
Rebecca, middle-aged and wearing a very prominent, very beautiful engagement-and-wedding ring set, couldn’t have been nicer. If she knew how Christian and I had met, or that he had decided to keep me as his personal fuck toy, or that he had spanked me for disobedience… or that under the pretty new skirt and the lacy panties I had bought with his money lay a pussy smoothed and sealed and terribly needy, the way her boss wanted it, Rebecca gave absolutely no sign.