Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Very well, ma chère,” he said softly. “Perhaps opening your gift will lift your spirits.”
His large hand came to rest on the small of my back, gently guiding me toward the sofa. I sank down onto the soft cushions, acutely aware of the plug shifting inside me as I sat. Lucas settled beside me, his thigh pressing against mine, radiating warmth through the thin fabric of my skirt.
“Go on,” he urged, nodding toward the box in my lap. “Open it.”
With trembling fingers, I lifted the lid of the box. A whisper of tissue paper greeted me, concealing the contents within. I pushed it aside, my breath catching in my throat as I revealed the most exquisite lingerie I had ever seen.
I gasped softly as I lifted the delicate garments from their nest of tissue paper. The bra was a marvel of intricate white lace, so sheer I could see my hand through the delicate cups. Tiny pearls adorned the straps and edging, gleaming softly in the lamplight. The garter belt matched perfectly, a wisp of lace and satin that would encircle my waist, holding up sheer white stockings with lace tops.
My fingers trembled as I ran them over the impossibly soft nylon, imagining how it would feel against my skin. The stockings seemed to shimmer, promising to make my legs look long and elegant. I could almost feel the sensual whisper of the fabric as I would walk, the slight constriction of the garters reminding me with each step of my submission to Lucas.
As I set aside the bra, garter belt, and stockings, my breath caught in my throat. Nestled at the bottom of the box were the panties—if they could even be called that. They were little more than a scrap of lace, held together by satin ribbons. But it was what was missing that made my cheeks flame with heat.
The entire seat of the panties had been cut away, leaving a wide, circular opening. I stared at the garment, my mind racing as I realized the implications. Wearing these, my most intimate places would be completely exposed, available for Lucas’ use at any moment. He could fuck my bottom hole without even taking off my underwear.
Lucas’ eyes gleamed as he watched me examine the panties, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Do you like them, ma chère?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
I swallowed hard, struggling to find my voice. “They’re… beautiful, Monsieur,” I managed to whisper, my cheeks burning. “But I… I don’t understand.”
Lucas leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “They’re designed to allow me access to what’s mine,” he murmured, his hand coming to rest possessively on my thigh. “While still keeping you properly attired. And they’re white, of course, because I’m going to take your final virginity tonight.”
A shiver ran through me at his words, equal parts arousal and apprehension. I couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through me at the thought of wearing such revealing lingerie, of being so exposed and available to Lucas’ touch. But at the same time, Louise’s warning echoed in my mind, reminding me of the article and Lucas’ supposedly traditional views.
As I gazed at the exquisite lingerie, a surge of arousal coursed through me. I imagined how the delicate lace would feel against my skin and how the garters would frame my thighs. The thought of wearing something so beautiful, so feminine, made me feel desirable in a way I never had before.
But then Louise’s voice echoed in my mind, speaking a line I remembered overhearing in my college dining hall, that had unaccountably stuck in my head: “Lingerie is a gift men give to themselves.” The phrase hit me like a splash of cold water, dousing the warmth that had been building inside me.
I looked at the lingerie with new eyes, seeing beyond the delicate lace and shimmering satin. The bra, with its sheer cups, would display my breasts without actually covering them. The garter belt would draw attention to my hips, emphasizing my feminine curves. And those panties… my cheeks burned as I considered again how exposed, how available they would leave me.
This wasn’t a gift for me at all, I realized. This was Lucas dressing me up like a doll, adorning me for his own visual and physical pleasure. The cut-out in the panties made that abundantly clear—I would be constantly accessible, ready for him to use at his whim.
A wave of shame washed over me, mingling confusingly with the lingering arousal. Part of me still yearned to slip into the garments, to see myself transformed into the object of Lucas’ dominant sexual hunger. Another knew I had to put a stop to it all.
“Monsieur,” I began hesitantly, setting the box aside. “I… There’s something I need to ask you.”