Chapter 17
Grace
I let out a little sob of need at Leah’s submissive response.
The words hit me like a physical blow, the desperate submission in them making my entire body ache with recognition.
I knew that need, that terrible desire to be claimed and marked and owned.
My fingers dug into my thighs as I watched Brian’s face contort with pleasure, his hand working furiously over his massive tool.
“Keep your hands behind your back,” he growled as the first rope of his release shot across Leah’s chest. She whimpered but obeyed, her small breasts thrust forward to receive his marking.
The camera captured every detail—the way the white fluid painted streaks across her pink nipples, how it dripped down the valley between her breasts, the expression of mingled shame and arousal on her tearstained face.
“Don’t move,” Brian commanded when he’d finished, tucking himself back into his uniform pants with casual efficiency. “I want you to feel it drying on your skin. To understand what it means to wear my seed.”
He sat back on the sofa, pulling out his phone to check something while Leah knelt there, trembling, his release cooling on her bare breasts.
The casualness of it, the way he left her there like a piece of furniture while he scrolled through his messages, made my stomach clench with a horrible recognition.
This was what submission really meant—not just the intense moments of use, but the quiet degradation of being ignored afterward, of being reduced to nothing more than a receptacle for a man’s pleasure.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only two or three minutes, Brian looked up from his phone. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.
Leah rose on shaky legs and moved to sit beside him, but he shook his head. “No. On my lap, facing me. Straddle me.”
I watched her awkwardly position herself, her panties still tangled around one ankle, his drying seed still decorating her chest. The position forced her legs wide, and I knew from experience how exposed she must feel, how vulnerable.
“Now rub it in,” Brian instructed, his hands settling on her hips. “Massage my seed into your breasts like it’s expensive lotion. Show me you’re grateful for it.”
My own hands clenched into fists as Leah’s trembling fingers began spreading the cooling fluid across her skin.
The camera zoomed in to show how she worked it into her flesh, her nipples hardening further as her own hands stimulated them.
Brian watched with dark satisfaction, occasionally murmuring instructions—“Don’t miss that spot, kitten… Make sure you get it all, now.”
When she’d finished, her chest glistened with the residue, and her face had gone scarlet with humiliation. Brian pulled her forward to kiss her softly, an oddly tender gesture after such degradation.
“That was lovely, Leah,” Brian murmured against her lips. “But we’re not done with your first lesson. Stand up.”
She scrambled off his lap, and I watched with growing dread and anticipation as he guided her back over his knee, this time with her bottom raised high and her legs spread wider than before. The position left nothing hidden—I could see everything through the camera’s unblinking eye.
“You’ve been such a good girl,” Brian said, his hand smoothing over her pink bottom.
“Your mouth is coming along very nicely. I think you deserve to learn how good it can feel when you please your husband.” His fingers traced lower, and Leah gasped as he found her the opening to her virgin pussy.
“Oh, my. You’re absolutely soaking, aren’t you?
And so beautifully bare. Did you shave yourself specially for our session today? ”
“Y-yes, sir,” Leah whimpered, her hips already moving slightly against his exploring fingers. “The New Modesty guidelines said… said you would prefer it.”
“I do prefer it,” Brian confirmed, spreading her lips to examine her more thoroughly. “Such a pretty pink pussy, all smooth and soft. On our wedding night, I’m going to enjoy every inch of this sweet little cunt.”
I squeezed my thighs together with increasing desperation as he began stroking her with obvious skill, his fingers finding her clit with unerring accuracy. Leah’s soft cries filled my apartment, and I bit down hard on my lip, the belt feeling like torture as my body responded to the scene.
“But that’s not all I’ll be claiming on our wedding night,” Brian continued conversationally, as if he weren’t working Leah toward what was clearly her first orgasm. “Do you remember what I said about which parts of you I plan to use, Leah?”
“Which… parts?” she gasped, her hips bucking against his hand.
“Your mouth… and this sweet little pussy… and then your bottom,” he said bluntly, and I watched her whole body tense.
“I’ll be training you to take me there too.
We’ll start small, of course. A finger at first, then a small plug.
By our wedding night, you’ll be ready to take my cock in your tight little asshole. ”
Leah whimpered, whether from fear or arousal I couldn’t tell. Brian’s fingers never stopped their relentless stimulation of her clit as he continued his mortifying explanation.
“It’s the ultimate act of submission for a wife,” he explained, his free hand spreading her cheeks to expose the tiny pink star of her anus. “Feeling her husband use her there, where it’s meant only for his pleasure, not hers. Though you might be surprised—many wives learn to love it.”
He pressed his thumb against her rear entrance, not penetrating, just applying pressure that made Leah cry out. Combined with his fingers on her clit, it was clearly overwhelming her completely.
“Are you going to come for me, Leah?” Brian asked, his fingers moving faster. “Show me what a responsive little wife you’re going to make.”
I watched Leah’s body convulse over Brian’s lap, her cries echoing through my apartment as her first orgasm crashed through her.
My own body clenched in sympathy, the belt becoming an instrument of torture as I witnessed her complete surrender.
Brian’s fingers never stopped moving, drawing out her climax until she was sobbing and begging him to stop.
“Shh, that’s enough,” he finally said, removing his hand from between her legs. The camera captured the glistening evidence of her arousal on his fingers, and I couldn’t suppress my whimper when he brought them to Leah’s mouth. “Clean them.”
She obeyed without hesitation, her tongue working over his fingers with the same dedication she’d shown earlier. The sight of her tasting herself from his hand made my pussy clench against the unyielding leather of the belt.
“Good girl,” Brian praised, helping her to stand. Her legs shook so badly she had to grip his shoulders for support. “Get dressed now. Your guardian will be home soon.”
I watched Leah fumble with her clothes, pulling her panties back up over her bare, sensitive slit, fastening her bra over breasts still sticky with Brian’s dried seed.
When she was fully dressed again, looking almost exactly as she had at the video’s beginning except for her swollen lips and dazed expression, Brian pulled her down for one more kiss.
“Next time,” he murmured against her mouth, “we’ll work on your gag reflex. I want you taking me all the way down that pretty throat.”
The video ended with Leah nodding obediently, her “Yes, sir” barely audible. The screen went black, returning to the menu showing the other two videos I still had to watch. Training Day. Wedding Night. The titles alone made my insides quiver with nervous anticipation.
I set the tablet aside with trembling hands, my whole body thrumming with frustrated arousal.
Three more days of this. Three more days of watching without any possibility of relief.
The thought made me want to scream. Already I could feel how swollen I was beneath the belt, how desperately my body craved the touch that the leather denied.
I clenched my fists, stretched them over my head, crossed my arms over my chest and squeezed.
I can do this, I told myself. Then, to my surprise, that same determined voice inside my head added, I want to do this.
Why, though? The answer came in an unexpected flash. For me. For myself—yes, for Scott, too… because he’ll spank me if I don’t do as he says, and… and he spanks my bare bottom so hard when I’m naughty… but…
But… really… for myself.
To understand myself. To learn about what kind of person I am—what Jacob couldn’t teach me, because he didn’t know either.
Scott, though… I felt my cheeks heat as if someone had just lit them with a blowtorch.
I had to distract myself from those thoughts. They seemed too real, too revealing of a truth I wanted to keep at arm’s length. I needed… I needed some way to deny it, some way to maintain a resistance—to Scott… and to myself.
I can do this.
I picked up the tablet, and noticed that Leah’s First Cock now had an icon I didn’t think I’d seen before—a pencil icon that must mean Edit. I tapped it.
The screen changed to show the video timeline with editing tools along the bottom—trim, cut, add text, export clip. My tummy fluttered as I realized what Scott had given me access to. I could create clips, add captions, make trailers from the raw footage.
Of course. This was my assignment—to identify the moments that would best capture viewer interest. But giving me the tools to actually create those moments myself? That felt like another test entirely.
I scrolled through the timeline, watching the preview thumbnails flash by.
There—Leah’s face when she first saw Brian’s cock.
The mixture of fear and fascination would definitely draw viewers.
I selected a five-second clip, then hesitated over the caption options.
What words would make someone desperate to see more?
Virgin soon-to-be bride meets her first cock, I typed, my face burning.
Too clinical. I deleted it and tried again.
Innocent Leah discovers what she’ll be swallowing every night.
Better, but still not quite right. The caption needed to capture both the corruption aspect and the domestic sweetness that NMB viewers craved.
Watch sweet Leah learn why good wives always say thank you with their mouths full.
Perfect. Horrible and perfect. I saved the clip and moved on, the belt pressing against me with every shift of position as I worked.
The next clip I selected showed Brian holding Leah over his lap, her bottom pink from spanking. The caption came easier this time: Naughty girls who use teeth get their bottoms warmed before trying again.
I found myself getting lost in the work, my analytical mind taking over despite my body’s constant state of frustration.
Each clip needed to tell a mini-story, to promise both punishment and pleasure.
The moment when Brian made Leah rub his seed into her breasts like lotion—that would definitely sell subscriptions.
A good girl’s moisturizer comes fresh from her suitor, I typed, then immediately deleted it. Too crude. Learning to be grateful for every drop of her suitor’s attention. Yes, that captured the psychological element better.
By the time I’d created six clips from the first video, my fingers were flying over the tablet’s interface.
I understood now why Scott had given me this capability.
It wasn’t just about identifying good moments—it was about understanding how to frame them, how to present the degradation in a way that felt both shocking and inevitable.
I saved my work and set the tablet aside, suddenly exhausted. The sun had set while I worked, and my apartment felt too quiet, too empty. The belt’s constant pressure had become a dull ache, a reminder that I had no way to relieve the tension that had been building all day.
My handheld buzzed with a message. Scott: Excellent work on the clips, Grace. I particularly enjoyed the one about gratitude. You have a natural talent for this.