Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

A lice

“Well, ma chère ,” Lucas said softly but with unmistakable menace, “now I have something truly to punish you for, don’t I? Good girls take off their clothes when their sponsors tell them to.”

His eyes flashed with a dangerous mix of arousal and anger at my defiance. He took a step toward me, his imposing presence filling my senses.

“I said, take off your clothes,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

I backed away instinctively, my heart pounding. “Please,” I whispered, “I’m not ready for this. Can’t we just… talk?”

A cruel smile played at the corners of Lucas’ mouth. “Oh, Alice,” he purred, “we’re well past talking now. You agreed to be mine, and I intend to claim what belongs to me.”

He closed the distance between us in two long strides. Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping the front of my dress. With a sharp tug, he tore the delicate fabric, exposing my bra and the soft skin of my stomach.

I gasped, instinctively trying to cover myself. But Lucas was faster. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head as he pressed me against the wall.

“Such a naughty girl,” he murmured, his eyes raking over my exposed flesh. “Disobeying me already. I’m going to enjoy teaching you your place.”

His free hand trailed down my body, caressing the curve of my breast before moving lower. I squirmed against his grip, torn between fear and a traitorous spark of arousal.

“Please…” I said. “Don’t?” I couldn’t tell which bothered me more: the question mark I had added to don’t or the unwelcome thought that I had meant do instead.

Lucas’ eyes glinted dangerously as he gripped the torn fabric of my dress. “Since you won’t undress yourself like a good girl,” he growled, “I’ll have to do it for you.”

With a swift, powerful motion, he ripped the dress down the middle, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the quiet room. I gasped as cool air hit my newly exposed skin. Lucas stepped back, drinking in the sight of me standing there in my simple white bra and gray panties, the tattered remains of my dress hanging off my shoulders.

“Oh, ma chère ,” he said, his tone a mix of amusement and disapproval. “These undergarments simply won’t do. They’re far too… innocent for a naughty girl like you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, face burning with shame. Lucas circled me slowly, his gaze traveling over every inch of my body. I could feel the heat of his stare on my skin. I shuddered, chewing my lower lip so hard I thought I might draw blood.

“Don’t worry about your dress,” he said casually, reaching out to trail a finger along my collarbone. “I’ll be happy to buy you three much nicer ones to replace it. But first…”

He stopped in front of me, his blue eyes darkening with desire. “Before I buy you those dresses, I’ll have to purchase some lingerie that will present your breasts, pussy, and bottom as pleasingly as your provocative beauty deserves.”

Lucas’ words sent a shiver through me, a confusing mix of shame and arousal flooding my body. His gaze felt like a physical touch, scorching my skin as he appraised me.

“Now,” he said, his voice taking on again the commanding tone that made electricity run across my skin, “take off those pitiful excuses for lingerie immediately and bend over the bed.”

I hesitated, my hands trembling as I clutched my ruined dress to my chest, as if I thought I could somehow bring back my modesty. Lucas’ eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You’ve already earned extra punishment for your disobedience, Alice,” he warned. “Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

My mind reeled, struggling to process the whirlwind of sensations and emotions. Fear clattered in my stomach, warring with the unwelcome heat that only seemed to grow between my legs with Lucas’ every act of aggression. I told myself I couldn’t bear any more whipping than what Lucas clearly planned already.

I lowered my arms and the ripped dress dropped to the floor. I let out a humiliating little whimper at the sensation. With shaking fingers, I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra.

The simple white cotton fell away, exposing my little breasts with their tiny pink nipples to Lucas’ hungry gaze. I fought the urge to cover myself as I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties. Closing my eyes, I pushed them down my legs, stepping out of them as they pooled at my feet.

I stood there, naked and trembling, as Lucas circled me once more. His fingertips ghosted along my spine, making me shiver.

“Go to the end of your bed and stand there, facing the headboard,” he told me, his tone unyielding.

I gave the world-famous man who had somehow become my sponsor a beseeching look, silently pleading with him to reconsider. But he simply lowered his chin, a warning glinting in his icy blue eyes. The message was clear—I had no choice but to obey.

With leaden feet, I began to walk toward my bed. The plush carpet felt soft beneath my bare toes, a stark contrast to the tension thrumming through my body. As I moved, I couldn’t resist turning to look behind me. My face must have been the very picture of a naughty girl’s woe—eyes wide, lower lip trembling, cheeks flushed with shame.

“Hands on your head,” Lucas commanded, his voice brooking no argument. “And turn around. I want to see all of you.”

Swallowing hard, I did as he ordered. I clasped my hands atop my head, my elbows pointing outward. The position made me feel utterly exposed, my small breasts thrust forward, my most intimate areas on display. I turned back toward the bed and kept walking the final few steps, trembling like a leaf in a storm.

I sensed Lucas following me toward the bed, his predatory gaze raking over my naked form. I stood at the edge of the mattress, my legs pressed tightly together in a futile attempt at modesty. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on my bare skin, my nipples hardening into tight little buds.

As Lucas came up behind me, I could feel the heat radiating from his huge, lean body. One enormous hand came to rest on my bare bottom, his touch sending a jolt through my body. His palm felt impossibly large, covering nearly the entire curve of one cheek. The warmth of his skin against mine made me acutely aware of my nakedness.

“Tell me, Alice,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “have you been spanked or whipped before?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Y-yes,” I whispered, my voice quavering.

“Oh?” Lucas’ tone held a mix of curiosity and something darker. His fingers flexed slightly against my flesh. “Do tell.”

Tears pricked at my eyes as I recalled the humiliation of the previous night. “It was… it was yesterday,” I admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “A man named Martin—the one I accepted, who I mentioned when I replied to you the first time. He… he spanked me in his car after our date. It hurt so much, and then he… he made me… he made me suck his cock and then just… he just left me there.”

Lucas was silent for a long moment, his hand still resting on my bottom. When he spoke again, his voice was surprisingly gentle. “I’m sorry, ma chère ,” he said softly. “Such an unworthy man should never have laid hands on you that way.”

I blinked in surprise at the genuine compassion in his tone. For a moment, I felt a surge of gratitude toward him, a renewal of the sense that perhaps he truly did care for my well-being.

But then his voice hardened once more.

“However,” he said, “Martin wasn’t wrong to recognize your need for discipline. In fact, this incident only confirms how desperately you require a firm hand to guide you.”

Lucas’ fingers tightened on my bottom, squeezing possessively. I gasped at the sudden pressure, a jolt of electricity shooting through me.

“You accepted his offer without truly understanding what it meant,” Lucas continued, his tone stern. “You allowed yourself to be used by an unworthy man, and then you touched yourself without permission, thinking of me. Clearly, you need real punishment to learn your place.”

His large hand moved up to the small of my back, the heat of his palm searing against my bare skin. With gentle but inexorable pressure, he began to bend me forward.

“Support yourself on your elbows,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding.

My heart pounded so forcefully I could feel it in my throat as I lowered myself onto the soft duvet. The position left me utterly exposed, my bottom raised and vulnerable. Cool air whispered across my most intimate places, making me shiver.

I turned my head, pressing my cheek against the bedspread as I tried to catch a glimpse of Lucas. From this angle, all I could see was the lower half of his body, still fully clothed in his impeccable suit. The contrast between his polished appearance and my naked, bent-over form only heightened my terrible, thrilling sense of degradation and vulnerability.

Lucas’ large hand settled on the small of my back, his touch both soothing and electrifying. I felt the smooth wooden handle of the martinet trailing along my spine, then down over the curve of my bottom. The supple leather strands whispered against my skin as Lucas dragged the implement slowly down the backs of my thighs.

“Spread your knees, ma chère ,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate in my ear.

I hesitated, my face burning with shame at the thought of exposing myself even further. Lucas’ hand pressed more firmly against my back, a silent warning.

“Now, Alice,” he said, his tone menacing.

Trembling, I inched my knees apart against the side of the mattress, over the softness of the duvet. Cool air caressed my most intimate places as I opened myself to Lucas’ gaze. I buried my face in the bedspread, overwhelmed by my shame.

“Good girl,” Lucas purred, approval warming his voice. The praise sent an unexpected thrill through me, despite my fear and embarrassment.

“Listen carefully, ma petite ,” he continued, his breath hot against my ear. “For you, punishment will always be sexual. Your body belongs to me now, to discipline and to pleasure as I see fit.”

To emphasize his point, Lucas swung the martinet in a gentle arc. The leather strands connected with my exposed pussy, the sting making me gasp and jerk against the bed.

His hand moved from my back to grip my waist, his fingers digging into my soft flesh. I could feel the heat of his body as he leaned over me.

“Do you feel that, ma chère ?” he murmured, pressing his lap against my hip. The hard length of his erection strained against his trousers, unmistakable against my bare skin. “My cock is so hard for you, just thinking about whipping this delectable little bottom and then claiming it as mine.”

A helpless whimper escaped my lips, my face burning with shame as I felt my body responding to his words and touch. Despite my fear and embarrassment, I could feel wetness gathering between my thighs, my treacherous pussy clenching with need.

“Please,” I whispered, new heat suffusing my cheeks as I heard the ambiguity in my tone.

Lucas straightened up, his left hand coming to rest atop my waist. The pressure was firm, holding me in place. I could sense him adjusting his stance, preparing to deliver my punishment.

“We’ll start with ten strokes for your disobedience,” he said, his voice low and stern. “Count them out loud. If you miss one, we’ll start over. Do you understand?”

I nodded mutely, my throat too tight to form words.

“I said, do you understand?” Lucas repeated, his tone sharp.

“Y-yes,” I whispered.

The martinet whistled through the air, its leather strands biting into the soft flesh of my bottom. A sharp cry escaped my lips as the stinging pain blossomed across my skin.

“Count,” Lucas commanded, his voice stern and unyielding.

“One,” I gasped out, my voice trembling.

“One what?” Lucas prompted, a dangerous edge to his tone.

Realization dawned, sending a fresh wave of humiliation through me. “One, Monsieur ,” I corrected myself, the words feeling strange and submissive on my tongue.

As soon as I spoke, I felt an unexpected and powerful response deep within my core, just to the sound of my own voice, acknowledging Lucas’ command over me. The walls of my too-warm sheath clenched hard, the sensation so intense that another cry escaped my lips—this one tinged with unmistakable pleasure.

Lucas’ hand stilled on my back. “Did you just clench, ma petite ?” he asked, his voice low and knowing.

My face blazed with shame as I realized he had sensed my body’s traitorous reaction. I was stunned by his skill, his ability to read my responses so accurately. How could he possibly know?

“ Oui, Monsieur ,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I admitted to my arousal.