Teaching His Virgin

I run my hands down the length of her body one more time. Both for my benefit (I’m fucking hard, and ready to take her in her sweet pussy right now), and to make sure that the harness really is on tight and properly.

It is, and as I tell her to turn around and look at herself in the mirror, I push my cock down. It wants nothing more than to sink into her pink, shivering depths, but not yet. Not until I’ve had a bit more fun with her. Not until I’ve given her a bit of punishment, a lesson in how living, breathing fashion works.

“What do you think of the way you look?” I ask this of her, just as Britney gets an eyeful of herself wrapped in leather straps, buckles, and silver attachments.

I can tell she’s supremely uncomfortable with all the skin showing, her nipples and pussy specifically. Even from the front, you can see the edge of her mound.

“It’s too revealing to me. Just like the other one, it’s not done for anything else than showing as much skin as possible, while acting like you have something on. I would definitely cover more of this up.”

She gestures to her breasts.

“I definitely wouldn’t be showing this off either.”

She zeros in on her crotch. But she sees something I didn’t before. Her pussy is so wet her thighs are slick. Britney quickly covers herself with her hands.

“As I said before, if some woman is going to wear this, she should feel empowered, like she’s in charge of her own space, not on someone’s menu.”

She looks at herself even more critically. Something I hate and am more irritated by than before.

“It shouldn’t just be on the designer’s whims to make her looked like a trussed-up pig.”

As she says this, I can’t help myself: I take her in hand, bend her over, and spank her soundly on her ass. It jiggles in response to my attention.

As the sound of the slap fades, I see the shock and surprise on her face. I wonder if that’s going to be enough to make her hold her tongue. It usually is for other women, but no other woman has dared to critique my work in that way or talk about my artistic vision in such a way.

You really aren’t like all the rest of them, are you?

As this thought blazes through my head, I see something else on her face: blatant, unabashed desire.

Chapter Six

Britney

Oh, my God!

Kace just spanked me!

I’ve never been spanked before!

My heart’s racing from the shock and surprise, but that’s not the worst part. I actually enjoyed being spanked. I’m actually hotter and wetter because of it, but I’m also not sure why he hauled off and spanked me. I only told him what I told him before, and he didn’t seem angry about it then.

I’m so fucking weird! I enjoyed being spanked like that! Even if I’m not sure why I would let him do that again.

My mind goes blank for a minute, remembering the feel of him all over my body. The way his hands took their time gliding over my curves, savoring all my exposed bits and pieces. I know he was taking longer than he needed to.

I know he was taking his time on purpose, feeling me up for his own enjoyment, even as he was “helping” me dress. But I was turned on by that too, and this spank he’s just given me — I’m over the edge now.

After what feels like an eternity of being in shock, I resume my assessment of myself and of the outfit, just like he asked. Kace did say that I needed to do exactly what he said if I wanted to keep this harness, and I’m going to do that, even if it upsets him. Critique is necessary for any artistic field, and fashion definitely so.

“I’m not sure what all of these other attachments are for, these hooks and circle bits, but if someone was wearing this out in public, they might get caught on something. I would get rid of those, and only put them around the hip area for decoration and things like that. Maybe some around the shoulders, but not all over the way you have them.”

Right as those words clear my mouth, Kace spanks me again. He does so harder this time, actually stealing my breath away.

“The way I have them is very purposeful, Britney. You are going to be punished for that kind of critique of me and my work.” He spanks me again and again, leaving me even more breathless.

“You asked for criticism,” I say over his punishment of my ass.

It’s still going, even as I’m speaking over the sound of skin slapping skin. I’m wet and warm below his hand.

“You said I had to do as you asked, so I’m doing that.”