Chapter 16
Scott
I had a mountain of reading to do before my meeting Monday with the heads of Strategy and Finance, but it was the weekend and I decided devoting an hour more to the bewitching Grace Whitcomb represented a better investment of my time.
If I hadn’t already figured out that I’d started to fall for Grace, that decision—more of a necessity, frankly—would have tipped me off.
But the sheer heat of our encounter that morning, the lingering sense-memory in my cock of her sweet pussy clenching around me as she came…
they had already made it abundantly clear that my feelings of attraction, and affection, were only getting stronger.
Really I hadn’t even meant to fuck her, but she had looked absolutely irresistible with her panties over her face and my hardness had gotten the better of me.
I didn’t regret it in the slightest though.
I had no reason not to go all in with Grace—I would claim her completely, and we would see what came of it after that.
On the other hand, I wanted to make certain that when I took that final step and gave her the pussy-whipping and bottom-fucking she so clearly needed, it would represent the step forward for her that it should.
I maximized the video window and manipulated the cameras in Grace’s apartment to give me three different images, in split screen: the video on Grace’s tablet on the left side and Grace’s face on the right, with a medium shot of Grace’s whole, lovely, nearly naked body underneath.
The chastity belt had been a very good idea: my sweet intern looked simultaneously innocent and extremely naughty clad only in its leather confinement.
On Grace’s screen, I watched Leah’s story begin, in the episode called Leah’s First Cock.
The screen showed a modest living room, the kind you’d find in any small Midwestern town.
Leah sat on a floral sofa, her hands folded nervously in her lap.
She wore the standard New Modesty style of clothing—a knee-length navy dress with a high collar, her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.
The camera captured her youth perfectly—she couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, with that particular combination of innocence and budding awareness that our subscribers found irresistible.
Through the surveillance feed, I watched Grace’s face transform as she recognized something of herself in Leah.
Her teeth caught her lower lip, a gesture I’d catalogued as one of her tells when she was fighting arousal.
The belt was doing its job—I could see her thighs pressing together, seeking friction that the leather wouldn’t allow.
On screen, a door opened and Brian entered the frame.
The casting department had outdone themselves—he was everything a New Modesty suitor should be.
Tall, broad-shouldered, his police uniform impeccable.
About twenty-six, with the kind of quiet authority that came from years of training rather than natural dominance.
Not like me, I thought with some satisfaction. Brian had to work at it. I simply was.
“Leah,” Brian said, his voice deep but gentle. “Come here.”
I watched Grace’s breathing quicken as Leah rose obediently and crossed to her suitor. The girl’s submission was textbook New Modesty—immediate but tinged with that delicious nervousness that suggested she didn’t quite know what would be expected of her.
“We’ve been courting for three months,” Brian said, his hand coming up to cup Leah’s chin. “Your guardian has given permission for us to progress to the next stage of our relationship.”
Grace made a soft sound—not quite a whimper, but close. Through the camera, I could see her hand drift unconsciously toward her lap before remembering the belt. Her fingers clenched against her thigh instead, and I made a note in her file about her exceptional responsiveness even through denial.
“I don’t understand,” Leah whispered on screen, though we all knew she understood perfectly well. The New Modesty program was nothing if not thorough in its education about marital duties.
“I think you do,” Brian said, echoing my thoughts. “But I’ll be patient with you. Get on your knees.”
The simplicity of the command, the matter-of-fact delivery—it was perfectly calibrated. I watched Grace’s entire body tense as Leah sank gracefully to her knees, her dress pooling around her. The camera angle shifted, showing Leah’s upturned face, those wide blue eyes fixed on Brian’s belt buckle.
“Take it out,” Brian instructed.
I zoomed in on Grace’s face just as Leah’s trembling fingers reached for Brian’s uniform pants. My intern’s pupils were fully dilated now, her chest rising and falling.
Grace
I watched the scene on my screen with mingled dismay and helpless arousal.
With trembling hands Leah took out Brian’s cock.
My breath caught at the sight—his massive tool was just as big as Scott’s, thick and already half-hard as it emerged from his uniform pants.
The camera lingered on Leah’s face, capturing every flicker of emotion as she processed what she was seeing.
Her lips parted slightly, a mix of fear and fascination crossing her features that I recognized all too well from my own experiences.
“I’m going to save your pussy and your bottom for our wedding night,” Brian said, his voice gentle but firm. “If we get married. But a good wife needs to know how to please her husband with her mouth.”
The conditional nature of his statement brought my heart into my mouth.
If they got married. The reminder that Leah’s entire future depended on pleasing this man, on proving herself worthy of being his wife, hit far too close to home.
I shifted on the sofa, the belt pressing maddeningly against my swollen flesh.
“Take out my balls too,” Brian commanded. “You need to learn all of me.”
I watched Leah’s delicate fingers fumble with his pants, pulling them down further to expose everything.
The camera captured her sharp intake of breath as she took in the full sight of him—his heavy balls, the way his cock continued to harden under her innocent gaze.
My own breathing had become shallow, and I had to fight to keep my hand from drifting to my lap even though I knew the belt would prevent any relief.
The leather covering my private parts felt slick already, and I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. The knowledge that Scott could see my arousal levels through the belt’s sensors made my face burn with humiliation, but I couldn’t control my body’s response to what I was watching.
“Have you ever done this before?” Brian asked, though he must have known the answer.
New Modesty wives usually came to their marriages as virgins in every sense.
If they weren’t, they had to disclose the fact when entering the program.
When Brian was choosing Leah to court, he would have seen in her profile whether she had any sexual experience.
“No, sir,” Leah whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Then I’ll teach you.” He threaded his fingers through her ponytail, not roughly, but with clear possession. “Open your mouth.”
The camera angle shifted to show both of them in profile as Leah parted her lips. Brian guided himself to her mouth with his free hand, rubbing the head of his cock against her bottom lip, leaving a glistening trail of pre-cum that made her eyes widen.
“Lick it,” he instructed. “Just the tip at first. Get used to the taste.”
I pressed my thighs together hard as Leah’s pink tongue emerged, tentatively touching the swollen head. Her face scrunched slightly at the unfamiliar taste, but she didn’t pull away. Brian’s grip on her hair tightened fractionally.
“Good girl. Now take it in your mouth. Just a little.”
Leah opened wider, letting him push past her lips. The camera zoomed in on her face, showing the tears already gathering in her eyes as she struggled to accommodate his size.
I watched as Leah worked hard to take even an inch of Brian’s thick shaft, her jaw stretching uncomfortably wide. When she accidentally scraped him with her teeth, trying to manage his size, Brian tsked softly and pulled back immediately.
“No teeth,” he said sharply, then his expression softened slightly. “You need to learn control. Stand up.”
My heart raced as Leah scrambled to her feet, confusion and fear evident in her eyes. Brian sat down on the sofa and patted his lap. “Over my knee. A girl who can’t control her teeth needs a reminder to focus.”
I bit my lip hard as Leah positioned herself across his lap, her bottom raised in that familiar, vulnerable position. Brian flipped her dress up, revealing simple white cotton panties that reminded me painfully of my own New Modesty days. He pulled them down to her knees with practiced efficiency.
The first spank rang out sharp and clear, making Leah yelp. I counted along in my head as Brian delivered ten firm spanks, turning her pale bottom pink. Not a severe punishment, but enough to focus her attention. My own bottom clenched in sympathy, remembering Scott’s hand that morning.
“Now,” Brian said, helping her stand, “let’s try again. But first, take off your dress and bra. I want to see your sweet breasts while you practice.”
I watched Leah’s hands shake as she unbuttoned her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Her plain white bra followed, revealing small, perfect breasts with pink nipples already hard from arousal or embarrassment or both. Brian’s hands immediately went to them, cupping and squeezing as Leah gasped.
“Back on your knees,” he commanded, still playing with her breasts. “We’ll go slower this time.”
Leah sank down between his spread legs, her reddened bottom visible as she knelt. Brian guided himself back to her mouth, but this time he kept one hand on her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers as she tentatively took him in.
“That’s better,” he murmured. “Use your tongue. Yes, just like that.”
For several minutes, I watched him teach her the basics—how to use her tongue along the underside, how to hollow her cheeks, how to breathe through her nose. Leah was a quick learner, and soon she was taking him deeper without gagging, her head bobbing with increasing confidence.
“Now my balls,” Brian said, pulling out of her mouth with a wet pop. “Lick them. Show me you’re grateful for this lesson.”
I squirmed on the sofa, the belt growing more torturous by the second as I watched Leah lean forward and tentatively lick at his heavy sac.
Brian groaned appreciatively, his hand tangling in her hair to guide her movements.
She lapped at him like a kitten with cream, her pink tongue working over every inch while he stroked himself, watching intently how Leah’s brow furled as she performed the lewd task he had set for her.
I watched her work, my body betraying me completely as the wetness between my legs increased despite the maddening confinement of the belt.
The way she looked up at Brian with those innocent eyes while her tongue traced over his balls made my tummy flip with recognition.
I’d done that same thing for Scott just hours ago, had felt that same mixture of humiliation and arousal at being reduced to such a base act of service.
“Good girl,” Brian praised, and I saw Leah’s whole body respond to those words, her back arching slightly as if the approval physically affected her. “Now I’m going to teach you something more advanced. Stand up.”
She rose on unsteady legs, her small breasts rising and falling with her quickened breathing. Brian stood too, towering over her, and positioned her back on her knees, but this time with her hands behind her back.
“Clasp your fingers together,” he instructed. “You’re going to learn to take me deeper without using your hands for control. This is about trust, Leah. Trusting me to guide you to give me pleasure.”
My breath caught as he gripped her ponytail firmly and brought her mouth back to his cock. This time, he controlled the pace entirely, pushing deeper than before. Leah’s eyes watered immediately, and I could see her fighting not to pull away.
“Relax your throat,” Brian coached, his voice surprisingly soft despite his firm grip. “Breathe through your nose. That’s it.”
I found myself unconsciously matching Leah’s breathing pattern, as if I could somehow help her through the screen.
When she gagged slightly, Brian pulled back just enough to let her recover before pushing forward again.
The camera captured everything—the tears streaming down her face, the way her throat worked to accommodate him, the desperate little sounds she made.
“You’re doing so well,” Brian murmured, and I hated how those words made my own body clench with need. “Such a fast learner. I think you’ve earned a reward.”
He pulled out completely, and Leah gasped for air, her lips swollen and glistening. Brian stroked himself slowly, deliberately, while looking down at her kneeling form.
“I’m going to come on your pretty breasts,” he announced matter-of-factly. “It’s called a pearl necklace, Leah. And you’re learning so fast, you’ll have a diamond ring to go with it very soon.”
The casual way he discussed marking her body, the assumption that she would accept his seed on her skin as naturally as she’d accept an engagement ring, made my face burn with fresh humiliation.
I pressed my thighs together uselessly, the belt preventing even the smallest bit of friction where I needed it most.
“Ask for it,” Brian commanded, his hand moving faster now. “Show me you want to be mine.”
Leah’s voice came out hoarse from her throat’s recent use. “Please, sir. Please give me your… your pearl necklace. I want to be your good girl.”