Kenzo passes me the list and pulls me into his arms. Moving to stand behind me, he wraps his arms around me. I start shouting out the names on his list, and Kenzo shocks me even more.
Moving his hands down my stomach, he travels slowly toward my clit. A lump is stuck inside my throat as I try hard to swallow it. I blush, and my eyebrows knit together.
Now this is different from being pleasured in the bedroom. He’s feeling me up in front of his men, and it’s affecting me more than I want it to.
My mouth falls open when his hand slides underneath the pink cotton underwear. He rubs my nipple between his thumb and finger as he presses himself against me from behind.
His finger swirls around my clit, sending a bolt of electricity flying through me. My hands sweat as my knees threaten to buckle underneath me.
All of his men watch on, and three of them lie on the floor with their arms behind their heads.
“Who’s next on the list, Rebecca?” Kenzo whispers in my ear, sending a shiver up my spine. I look down at the list, struggling to speak as the pink cotton panties begin to feel wet.
His fingers slide through my crease, sending my eyes to the back of my head. An orgasm is brewing, and when I’m close to releasing it, he stops.
“Name?” Clearing my throat, I tell him the next person is Trevor. This is torture! How am I supposed to get through this list when all of his men are watching him play with me?
This is easier said than done. Even if it’s classed as a taboo thing to do, I’m more turned on than ever. All he has to do is move his fingers slightly.
It could be anywhere on my body, and I would get more wet. I am dripping. My face is on fire, my body is sweating, and I keep on twitching because my clit is too sensitive and cannot handle the sensations.
I inhale a deep breath and work hard to get through the list. Believe it or not, I am actually enjoying it, so I may be taking longer than I should be.
Finally, at the end of the list, I’m completely out of breath and the humiliation has subsided. The way it made his men react was a turn-on for me.
Their rock-hard cocks were fighting to get out of their black pants as they watched Kenzo move his fingers across my body and the effect that it had on me.
I’m sure my facial expressions also played a part in it. Kenzo’s touch cannot be described. Turning me around, Kenzo grabs my waist and admiration shows in his eyes.
“I am super proud of you, Rebecca. You took your punishment very well. It’s such a shame that you wouldn’t listen to me in the beginning. All of this could have been avoided.”
Butterflies flutter inside my stomach as I feel ecstatic with Kenzo’s approval. Why does he affect me this much?
“Come on. Let’s go and eat breakfast.” He smirks over my shoulder, and my stomach twists into a tight knot.
While eating breakfast, I blush because my breasts swipe across the marble table making me jump and squeal. Everyone stares at me. Not fun!
Still, I carry on eating my food until Kenzo escorts me out of the room.
Entering his room, he walks me to his bathroom and passes me the soap. Placing it inside my mouth, I move it around for five flipping minutes.
Kenzo is loving every second of it as I balk and fight to not throw up.
“Next time you decide it would be a great idea to argue with me, it will be ten minutes.”
After I spit the soap out, he pulls me into his bedroom, and I stand awkwardly.
“One hundred push-ups starting now.” Kenzo glances down at his watch that sits around his wrist, and I drop to my knees.
I do the push-ups. The first thirty are easily pushed out, and then I start to struggle with them.
“Don’t stop, otherwise we will start from the beginning. The reason for a punishment is to stop you from doing what caused you to be punished in the first place.”
It’s hard. My skinny arms are struggling. It feels impossible in my mind as I push through it. My body burns, and my muscles feel sore and achy.
Finally getting to the end of the push-ups, I collapse to the floor, and Kenzo laughs at my lifeless body sprawled out across the cold flooring.
Helping me up, he pulls me between his legs and starts to play with my sensitive nub again. Why is he doing this to me?
“Naughty girls don’t get treats. This feeling would usually be released if you behaved yourself.”
Throwing my head back, I enjoy the feeling as he inserts two fingers inside me. I cry out. This is intense compared to earlier as my body tightens up ready to release.
Whispering in my ear, he says, “I may have to do this more often. Your sexual facial expressions make you good enough to eat.”
Redness covers my face entirely as I grip his suit blazer. Attempting to hide my expressions, I turn my face, hiding it on my leg. He taps my cheek, and my eyes snap open to see him glaring at me.
“Keep your eyes on me. Turn your head and I will put your head in a vice to stop your movement.”
Surely there’s no such thing, is there? I don’t push him on that and keep my eyes on his. He’s handsome, and his eyes show so much emotion it makes my heart beat quickly inside my chest.
How can a man show this much emotion but do acts of darkness?
Inches away from release, he pulls his hand away. I want to cry because it felt amazing as I was ready to ride my orgasm. Why oh why do I have to do this to myself?
The rest of the day goes by quickly. The sun goes down, and the darkness consumes me as I wait for him in his bedroom. I stare out the window at all the lights in his flower garden.
“Good evening, Rebecca.”
“Your bed is on the floor. Lie down and go to sleep.”
Wait, what? I’m sleeping on the fucking floor? My mouth drops open. He has got to be kidding!
“Not sleeping in my bed last night has gained you the floor for the night. Next time, I hope you will listen to me. Trust me, your life would be a hell of a lot easier if you behaved yourself, Rebecca.”
I shake my head. I’m not in the mood, and I won’t be speaking to him. He doesn’t deserve it. How many punishments have I had so far? Too many. I’m done with him.
I walk over to the side of his bed and lie down. Covering myself up with the blanket, I quickly shut my eyes. This isn’t too bad. I suppose.
