Page 6 of Serving Her Sentence
SMACK!
SMACK!
“And she begs so prettily, too.”
SMACK!
SMACK!
Beg, she did. Pleaded. Cried. Didn't even care when cameras came around to record her expression, and the tears ran down her cheeks as the auctioneer turned the creamy bottom of her skin into a hot, chastised pink. It hurt so much, and there was nothing she could do.
The spanking hurt like hell, and not in the sexy way she'd half-imagined when she'd thought about it. Her sobs only added to her humiliation—but not nearly as humiliating as when the auctioneer ceased the burning swats and thrust his fingers back into her pussy, pumping them as she cried out in both pain and pleasure. She was shocked at how wet she still was—how much wetter she'd become.
Pulling his fingers out, the auctioneer held them up, showing them to the cameras. “Still wet, gentlemen. She liked it.”
Noelle whimpered.
Had she liked it? She hadn't thought so when he'd been raining swats down on her tender cheeks, but now her pussy was tingling pleasurably, and the hot surface of her skin was arousing... as was her helplessness. Her brain told her she hadn't liked it at all, but her body had had an entirely different reaction. Sheshouldn'thave liked it.
So, why did she want to beg him to put his fingers back in her pussy?
The questions continued to pour through her mind as the auctioneer began to take bids.
Why did the auctioneer's hand on her hot bottom make her want to wriggle?
Did she really think she could take more spankings like that? For a year?
How much worse would a whip feel?
A flogger?
A cane?
Would they make her wet as well?
Why had she really chosen this option for her sentence?
* * *
$10,400,000
Noelle was left gasping, still bent over the table where she'd been spanked. The auctioneer had left her in that position the rest of the auction, showing off her pussy, occasionally giving her bottom an extra swat so she would squeal when the bids began to slow, pumping the plug and making her whimper as her sphincter was forced open for the fat bulb, and frequently, pushing his fingers in and out of her wet pussy to showcase how aroused she still was.
The money was more than enough to pay back Biggs. More than enough to have a completely new life when she was done with her sentence. More than enough to never have to work another day in her life—as soon as she was done serving her time. She couldn't help but feel triumph along with her trepidation—but first, she had to get through this year.
The auctioneer chuckled, giving her pink bottom a final pat before leaving. “Never seen anyone get so turned on during their auction,” he said, although he sounded anything but disapproving. “Good for you. It drove the price right up. Best show I've ever done, girlie.”
The surprising praise warmed her a little, soothing a bit of her embarrassment at her body's shocking reactions. Then again, why wouldn't he sound cheerful and approving? He'd touched her as much as he wanted, fondled her most intimate areas, and fingered her pussy repeatedly. Even now, she was squirming, highly aroused since he hadn't brought her to orgasm.
As she straightened, a little confused, she watched the auctioneer go through the door she'd entered through. It swung back open almost immediately as Nurse Stacey came in, leading a tall, dark-haired man. Noelle froze as his cold gaze ensnared hers, the way a predator would its prey. She'd thought she'd gotten used to being naked, but now she felt bared in a way more than embarrassing. She felt as vulnerable as she had when she'd been tied down to Dr. Blaine's table, even though there were no restraints in sight.
Something about the way he was looking at her, as though he could see into her very soul and all the dark secrets she'd tried to hide—not just from the world, but from herself. His look was also possessive, moving over her naked body as if he owned it.
Because he did.
While he was wearing a suit, there was something untamed, almost uncivilized about him. The dark shadow along his jawline made her wonder if he'd shaved that day, while the casual authoritativeset of his broad shoulders made it clear he considered himself in charge. With the amount of money he'd apparently had to pay for her, she could only imagine he must be in charge ofsomething. Maybe even a company as large as the one she'd worked for.
“Noelle, this is your new owner, Mr. Damian Alver,” Nurse Stacey said in a brusque tone as Noelle continued to stare at him, unable to look away. “He will spend the next hour demonstrating his expectations. After that time, you will have another opportunity to request a change of sentence. Do you understand?”