Lucy Salisbury - My Secret Life in Paris

‘I could make you come so easily, couldn’t I, my little piglet, or I could make you beg for release. I could make you go like this all evening, even sleep like this, and you’d do exactly as you were told, wouldn’t you? Maybe I should even send you into work like this, with a note for Monsieur Montesquieu, asking him to take down your nappy and spank you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Lucy?’

‘You bitch!’

‘A bitch, am I? Right …’

She had pushed her thumb in up my cunt as she was speaking and was masturbating me in a leisurely, offhand fashion as her words drove my sense of shame ever higher, but at my response she pulled her hand free, wiped it on my panties and began to spank me, slapping my well-spread bottom and the lips of my cunt to set me gasping and moaning on the instant. I had to come, then and there, with the appalling picture she’d created fresh in my head. My hand went down between my thighs and I was rubbing at my clit while she continued to spank me, laughing all the while at my helpless excitement.

‘That’s my girl, that’s my little piglet. Do it, rub your dirty little cunt while you think about the state you’re in, in a nappy, Lucy, and I know what you’re thinking about too. You’re thinking about having big, bad Monsieur Montesquieu spank your naughty bottom at the office, with your nappy pulled down at the back and your creamy little bumhole ready for his fat old cock, aren’t you!’

Suddenly there was anger in her voice, maybe mock, maybe real, but I was already starting to come and couldn’t hold back my words.

‘Yes, just like that, in my nappy, in front of everybody, then with it pulled down at the back, and he’d fuck me, and bugger me, and make me suck his cock, and spank me and spank me and spank me!’

I screamed, every muscle in my body locked tight as I came under my own fingers, with Adrienne now slapping hard across my open cheeks and on the lips of my cunt, viciously hard smacks I barely felt in my ecstasy.

‘I’d do it too, you little bitch,’ she spat out, ‘but learn this, Lucy. I choose who gets to do dirty things to you – me, Adrienne Vauligneau, and that includes what you think. Now lick my cunt.’

She gave me a last furious salvo of spanks before letting go of my panties and climbing onto the bed. I was still coming, and spread my thighs wide to my fingers even as she straddled my body. My mouth opened wide as she tugged up the tight black dress she was wearing and pulled her panties aside to present me with her naked cunt. I was licking immediately, pathetically grateful for what she’d done to me and more than happy to oblige her in any way she pleased.

My orgasm had begun to fade, but I stayed as I was, my legs wide, my fingers stroking at my pussy and the hot red skin of my cheeks, my bottom wriggling in my open nappy, revelling in my own shame as I licked my mistress to ecstasy. She wasn’t exactly gentle about it, grinding her cunt against my mouth and calling me a bitch and slut as I struggled to lick her properly, and also telling me that I belonged to her, over and over again, as she came to her own climax under my eager tongue.

Even then she wasn’t done, but rolled me onto my front for a dozen firm swats with my own hairbrush before ordering me to strip. I was made to put my nappy back on as before and serve her dinner like that, in the nude but for the puffy white towelling encasing my hips and bottom and belly, then to get down on my knees and kiss her boots before apologising for my wayward behaviour in fantasising about somebody other than her.

I had a problem, but it wasn’t one I was particularly eager to fix. Adrienne was just too good, with an extraordinary ability to strike to the heart of my sexuality and the strength to stop me backing out when my feelings began to get stronger than I might otherwise have been able to handle. Putting me in a nappy had brought out my feelings of sexual shame in a new and delightful way, while spanking me in that awful, humiliating position had been the final, perfect touch. The episode had also established a wonderful intimacy between us, as we now shared a secret sufficiently taboo to shock all but the most debauched.

That was the good side. The bad side was that she had assumed ownership of me, so fast and so completely that I’d missed my opportunity for the very necessary heart-to-heart talk we should have had on our first day together. I hadn’t even told her I had a boyfriend back in London, Magnus, and, although we agreed to a fully open relationship while I was in France, he was sure to visit. So was Stacey, who’d been keeping my bottom warm for me since shortly after I’d joined the company and would want to continue doing so.

Yet if I did tell Adrienne about all this, I was going to end up with relationship issues – either a discontented partner or an ex living almost next door, an ex who’d spanked me and put me in nappies. That was the last thing I needed, with my job more difficult by the day and the pleasure of coming home to Adrienne ever more important. I meant to tell her on the Saturday but it was a cloudy, cool day and we went shopping instead of sunbathing. Sunday was the same, cuddled up together in bed for most of the morning, and when it brightened up in the early afternoon she suggested walking to the Bois de Boulogne. I knew what that meant, and again it was an irresistible alternative to an upsetting conversation all too likely to turn into a full-blown row.

The first time I’d met Adrienne she’d been with her friend Giselle, who worked in insurance but had a taste for the gothic and darker side of sex, dressing completely in black at the weekends to enjoy watching men being dominated, particularly by other men. She wasn’t averse to girls either, and I’d already had my face sat on, but what she really liked was to see a man, the more respectable the better, with another man’s cock in his mouth.

Giselle was coming with us and we met in their favourite café in the Rue Poussin, full of nervous excitement as we drank a round of pastis to get up a little Dutch courage. As I knew from Adrienne, the important thing was to go out at dusk rather than after dark, and to stay clear of certain areas. If there were any police around, we were simply three innocent young women out for a walk, as she explained as we made our way up the Route de Boulogne à Passy.

‘They’re not really concerned with the amateurs, or the locals, more the reputation of the area for sex tourism. Still, we have to go a little way in, because I think we ought to introduce Lucy to a Brazilian, don’t you, Giselle?’

‘Yes, a big one. I’ll call Sabrina.’

I began to speak, already feeling as if I was a toy for their amusement and not quite ready for it, but then went quiet, telling myself I’d get the best experience by letting them take control. A brief phone call and Giselle had arranged something for me, something that set my heart fluttering as we turned in among the bushes, because I had a fairly shrewd idea what they were planning. She made two more calls, leaving me with a serious case of the jitters as I imagined being made to service a string of men.

We’d come to an area of dense undergrowth cut through with a maze of little tracks, but Adrienne and Giselle seemed to know where they were going, and led me to a place where a huge oak sheltered an area of open grass. Leaning against the tree was a person who could only be Sabrina, well over six feet of improbably voluptuous curves packed into a leopard-print dress and supported by lipstick-pink high heels, with a mane of glossy blonde hair falling almost to her waist. She stepped forward as she saw us.