Please Me: Parisian Punishment (2 page)

When he strolled back to the table, he sat down and left her kneeling at his feet. She saw the single massively laden plate, and smelled good cooking mingled with her husband’s natural scent. She could feel the stiff wood from her skin covered patella all the way to the tops of her feet. The position wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, instead she felt more awkward than anything.

As Pierre gave her tidbits of the meal, a bite of syrup and cinnamon cakes hit her palette. He could cook and the sensuality of being fed as if she was a pampered pet excited her enough to have her pussy seep arousal onto her calves before the droplets of dew made contact with the floor.

When she was full and unable to eat another bite, she watched Pierre feed himself. Shari wanted to do that. She wanted to give him each bite the way he parceled out hers just minutes before.

“Yes?” He looked at her so directly, she knew he could see through her.

“Pierre, may I?” She reached her hand out for the fork he held in his right hand.

“You may.”

She took the fork and rose up on her knees to offer him a taste of everything she just had. A bit of cakes, a tidbit of hash potatoes, then a smidgeon of sausage. He accepted each and the gentle expression on his face was enough to make her feel gratitude that she finally got it right last night.
   
 

When he finished, Pierre stood and took one hand in each of his as he helped her up. As he looked at the small puddle in the floor he didn’t remark on it, merely smiled smugly and lifted one eyebrow. Her legs had grown numb after the protracted kneeling posture, but she felt the ache was worth it. Her husband finally appeared to not have a care in the world. He must have noticed her weakness and lifted her into his arms. From there he made way to the bathroom and ran a tub filled with suds before she was seated waist-deep in the froth.

He bathed her with the care given to children and peppered her face occasionally with kisses. She hadn’t even enjoyed her honeymoon this much. When she was squeaky clean, he helped her into a one of his soft bathrobes and back into their bedroom. From there he oiled her smooth skin until she gleamed.

“Chaton, today we are going on an adventure.” His English was thickly accented and she didn’t have to look down to know his cock was harder than a railroad spike.

“Where to Pierre?”

“First, shopping. Then we will go to a club here outside of town later in the evening.”

“Okay… But I thought you hated nightclubs, Pierre?”

“This is something totally different. It is for those who like what we do.” Shari went from relaxed to frozen with fear. What would be expected of her amid a club of freaks? “Calm down. You are untrained. The only expectation I have is for you to pay attention.”

“Pierre, will you be with anyone else? Or expect me to? I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Shari.” He took his hand and placed his fingers under her chin, lifted her face so he could look her in the eye. “You are my wife. If I meant to share you with others, we would not be married right now. Before you, I have shared my submissives with other men, but those women meant nothing to me. They were not in my heart or blood, nor were they a part of me. But I respect you and I would cut off an arm before I offended you by fucking another woman. Neither will I disrespect you by allowing a man the right to touch with lustful intentions.”

“It’s just that I can see you have these needs, and I don’t know if I can be the woman that you are looking to fulfill them.”
“Why not? You did a great job last night.” He smiled gently and she helplessly responded in kind. “There are few rules at the Cirque. First, you must stay with me at all times and I will escort you to the bathroom as well. Second, do not look another person in the eye. That honor is only reserved for me. Third, the posture I showed you at the dinner table is the one that you must assume whenever I am seated and you must stay no more than two yards away from me at all times. Fourth, you cannot speak to anyone else at the club without permission from me first. The last rule for now is that you must follow every direction I give you as it is given. I will not permit any hesitation. Nor will I allow disobedience. Every infraction is expected to be corrected and I do not disappoint in that regard.”

Wow, I am up shit creek without a paddle.

Hot Couture

Pierre was elated. He had never imagined that he could open his bride’s eyes to the world of BDSM. Damned if he believed that she would be the type of woman to enjoy this lifestyle. But he knew she loved every iota of what he had done to her so far, and he couldn’t wait until he got the chance to do even more. She had even left a thick puddle of cunt juice beneath her on the floor after breakfast. There wasn’t much more that he could ask for and he thanked God that he had a wife who was so compatible with him in so many ways.

He took his mastery to the next level and proceeded to choose her garments to wear for their shopping trip. Pierre picked out a full length dress with a halter neckline. The style of the dress meant she couldn’t wear a bra and he picked a pair of lacy panties in the same cerulean hue. Then he picked up a pair of thong sandals that he loved to see her in. There was no heel and the straps were clusters of turquoise that wrapped around her ankles in a gladiator style. Her hair was wild from their prior evening of sex and the early bath.

He on the other hand dressed simply, a blue tee shirt, cargo shorts and as his wife called them, Jesus sandals. It only took him a matter of minutes to don his clothing and when he was done he watched her adorn herself with her chosen garments. Pierre asked her to put her hair into a ponytail and she did, a thick afro puff bound near her nape. She had so much hair the mass nearly obscured half of her exposed back.
 

When she was done he handed her a pair of bangles for her wrists and a set of hoops for her ears. Pierre kissed her, let his mouth eat hers hungrily until her breath hitched and her hips gyrated towards his. As he reluctantly tugged away from her, she followed and leaned forward as though she needed more. He usually took the Metro everywhere, but today he would drive as there would be too many bags to carry back.

He made his way across town as he decided on which shop would be best to find what he sought. They arrived at Demonica, walked around for a quite a while as Pierre picked up anything that caught his eye and there was a lot. He found chemises, gloves, shoes, hot pants, and miniskirts. With each addition, he watched her eyes grow wider and wider. He knew she couldn’t imagine wearing half of what he had chosen and that was alright. Pierre had enough imagination for the both of them and maybe a few other people too.

When he was done with the massive pile in his cart, Pierre walked to the dressing room with Shari in tow. He handed all of the garments to a woman with pink hair and a few metal rings in her face. The girl oohed and ahhed over some of the choices, and even remarked on one of the latex and net dresses he’d chosen.

“We just got this one in a couple of days ago, and I haven’t seen anyone try it on yet.” The dress was risqué with a twist of latex covering all of the necessary bits and a swirl of net exposing everything else. The woman handed Shari a small grouping of the garments, but took the hot pants. “There’s a gold pair that I think you would like with a chain blouse better. If you want to see it.”

“Sure why not.” Pierre caught a glimpse of Shari’s gaped open mouth and chuckled, this was shaping up to be a great day.

Pierre watched the check girl walk away and he escorted Shari to the furthest dressing room. The room was large and sported a small chair along with shoe tree at its side. There were several hooks for discarded clothes and one large mirror trimmed with an ornate gold leaf frame that spanned the entirety of the farthest wall. He also noted curtain behind him dragged the floor.
Good, no one will know I’m in here. That is, until I leave.

“Shari strip down and put this on.” He handed her a chemise. It was more romantic in theme than bondage, but he wanted to work his way up.

It was pure torture as he watched his wife divest her garments and put on more that he chose. But he was up for the challenge and placed the garment back on its proscribed hanger. Next, he handed her the mini skirt and a bandeau top to pair with it. He knew the outfit made her uncomfortable as her toes curled into the nap of carpet beneath her bared feet, and noted the shuffle of her movements as she took stock of her body in the mirror.

But he saved one of his favorites for last and ogled her nudity openly as she slipped into the tiny latex and net sheath. The dress had one arm only fully encased in the shiny material with a swath of the same material in a thick spiral that wrapped around her breasts then curved over her pussy and ass, though she could barely be considered covered by any means. When she exhibited more signs of discomfort he decided to help relax her.

She tugged on the dress at the hem and quirked her lips.

“This is the one.” He said aloud for no real reason at all, other than the fact that she was so uncomfortable in it. And because he loved how easily she blushed at the visage of her curves after she donned it.

“For what Pierre? Tonight?”

“Oui.” Her eyes grew wide at his quick agreement.

“B-but Pierre, I’m not comfortable with the idea of wearing this in public.”
“Too bad, Sharisse. You better get comfortable quick, fast and in a hurry.”

She looked as if she wanted to reply, but the words wouldn’t come to her. That was good, as now was not the time to give him any lip. When her mouth cocked in a mulish angle he knew she was pissed, though he found he cared less what she thought. She was going out with him tonight and not only that, but she would be wearing the very dress she tried on now, whether she liked it or not. Otherwise she could be tardy for tonight’s party and make her late entrance with a red ass.

Shari hung her head low and he saw she was near tears. He felt… not contrite, just a bit abashed. He knew she was new to these types of feelings and only a handful of months from being a virgin. But he was just so hungry for more of her swift acquiescence that he couldn’t keep it all together. Pierre stood up from his casual seat on the tiny chair and walked behind his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hint of the gentility she needed at the moment. She melted into his arms and he relaxed as well.

Shari was the spice and fire that made his life worth living and the woman that made his heart beat faster. She had no idea how much she meant to him and the blame for that lay squarely on his shoulders.

Silent/Screaming Orgasms

Shari was scared. More like petrified, but she attempted to talk herself away from that particular ledge. Though with each garment she put on, her nerves grew worse. She felt tightly wound, a clock spring ticked time away somewhere inside of her ready to snap at any moment. These clothes were not made for a woman with as much extra as she had. Everything was way too revealing to wear in public and she was afraid of what others would think of her. Especially with all of her extras melted and poured in to an item so scanty her snatch hairs could be counted one by one, no magnifying glass needed.

But more fear she felt the wetter her pussy became until all she could think about was her need. All she could think about was the heat in Pierre’s eyes with each clothing change. He sat still and watched every item he chose as they were added to her frame. He watched every inch of her so carefully and she wished that she could have her cake and eat it too. She could deal with the domination, she just wasn’t sure if she could be the perfect sub before a group of strangers.

Pierre ran his hands all over her body. But she was seduced when he gave her exquisite plucks on each nipple. Then he scrolled one hand towards her thighs and rubbed the slickened seam of her pussy. Before she had the chance to process just how aroused she was he took his fingers away from her damp panties. She groaned slightly as she wanted him where he was. But he had something else in mind and she felt pressure once Pierre released his hard cock from the fly of his shorts. The thick organ smacked her spine and she shuddered. Should they, right here and now? But her question was quickly dismissed when he pushed her forward. Her arms rose to keep herself steady and her hands intuitively gripped the frame of the mirror.

“Are you willing to take it, chaton?”

“Oui, Pierre.”

“Tr
è
s bon.” As he spoke to her in a wicked whisper next to her ear she shivered helplessly.

He arched his hips and she felt the pressure of his cock against her pussy. Pierre pressed forward and wrapped one hand over her hip. Her panties were slick and cooling from the AC and her nipples pouted hungrily. He pulled the fabric at her hip at the same time that his member gained entry and as if by magic he began to fill her aching wet well with thick cock.