Free Please Me: Parisian Punishment by Jennifer Willows Page B

the bondage outfit last night? There you go, I just said it. Does that satisfy you?”
     
    “Non, Sharisse. There are going to be changes around here, starting today. I am a well-established Dominant, and you will learn how to please me. If you had known before last night who I am, would you have still done it?” She appeared to be lost in thought, but lasted for only a spilt second before she replied.
     
    “Oui, Pierre I would have. I want all of you, not bits and pieces that you choose to parcel out in fear of my response.”
     
    “Good. I want all of you too Shari. And from now on, I aim to have it. Come here.” He watched her slide off of the table’s surface and heard the squeak of her skin as she did so. “Kneel for me.”
     
    She complied, although she was far from quick about it. He corrected her posture with a few gentle touches and taps from his fingers until she was situated to his preference. When he was done, she knelt with her buttocks resting on heels. He had her sit upright with her back straight and eyes forward, her hands clasped at rest in her lap. Normally his submissives were commanded to look at the floor when in a resting posture, but Shari was not a stereotypical sub. She was his wife and he wanted her to be proud of her place by his side. The same way he was honored to be first her spouse and now her dominant.
     

 
    Up Dominant Creek Without A Paddle
     
    Shari was stupefied. Her mild mannered husband was a whip toting, bonafide dominant. She would have never seen this man coming.
     
    “Are you hungry?” He asked her, but her ass hurt quite a bit. She was sore from last night to begin with. Then the spanking from this morning only compounded her prior aches.
     
    “I could eat.”
     
    “Alright, my kitten. Just a minute.” He strolled over to the counter as if he had not a care in the world, and with an air of pure masculinity, the perfect balance of a jungle cat coupled with confidence. He made her so nervous and she wondered yet again, where was the man she married? Was all of what she knew of him a farce? Was this who he truly was day in and out? And the most damning question she had was, could she handle what she unleashed? But she shrugged the fear aside, mostly due to the fact that she had asked and he had given, and therefore she had little room for complaint.
     
    When he strolled back to the table, he sat down and left her kneeling at his feet. She saw the single massively laden plate, and smelled good cooking mingled with her husband’s natural scent. She could feel the stiff wood from her skin covered patella all the way to the tops of her feet. The position wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, instead she felt more awkward than anything.
     
    As Pierre gave her tidbits of the meal, a bite of syrup and cinnamon cakes hit her palette. He could cook and the sensuality of being fed as if she was a pampered pet excited her enough to have her pussy seep arousal onto her calves before the droplets of dew made contact with the floor.
     
    When she was full and unable to eat another bite, she watched Pierre feed himself. Shari wanted to do that. She wanted to give him each bite the way he parceled out hers just minutes before.
     
    “Yes?” He looked at her so directly, she knew he could see through her.
     
    “Pierre, may I?” She reached her hand out for the fork he held in his right hand.
     
    “You may.”
     
    She took the fork and rose up on her knees to offer him a taste of everything she just had. A bit of cakes, a tidbit of hash potatoes, then a smidgeon of sausage. He accepted each and the gentle expression on his face was enough to make her feel gratitude that she finally got it right last night.      
     
    When he finished, Pierre stood and took one hand in each of his as he helped her up. As he looked at the small puddle in the floor he didn’t remark on it, merely smiled smugly and lifted one eyebrow. Her legs had grown numb after the protracted kneeling