I pretended to consider the question carefully. Clothing represented another powerful tool in reshaping Louisa’s identity, and the Bad Girls Program exploited it fully. I wanted her to think that her daddy would put a lot of thought into the apparel he chose for her.
The theme of how a young woman dressed—and who got to choose her clothes—carried a special charge for a girl likeLouisa. It would help reform my bad girl into a good one who could enjoy her submission to a man and become a productive member of society—and, in Louisa’s case, effective undercover operatives.
“I want some very little girl outfits,” I said, watching Louisa’s face for her reaction. “Pinafores, ruffled dresses. But also some more grown-up pieces for when she’s earned privileges. And lingerie that emphasizes her status.”
“I understand completely,” Esme nodded. “Special underwear as well, I presume?”
“Yes,” I said, warming to the topic. “Several pairs of frilly panties with ruffles. But I want them to have a special feature—a button right over her anus that I can undo to open the panties for fucking whenever I want.”
Louisa made a small, strangled sound, but remained still, her face now crimson with embarrassment.
“As it happens,” Esme said, “I actually have a similar pair with me. A prototype I designed for another client who found them quite effective.” She reached into her leather portfolio and extracted a small package. “Would you like to see the effect?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, intrigued. “Little Lulu, come put these on.”
Louisa took the panties with obvious reluctance. They were white with lace trim, looking deceptively innocent except for the small pearl button positioned precisely over where her anus would be. She stepped into them slowly, pulling them up her slender legs until they hugged her hips snugly.
“Turn around,” I instructed. “Let me see how they fit.”
She turned, presenting her back to me. The panties cupped her bottom perfectly, the fabric thin enough to show the lingering marks from her punishment. The pearl button gleamed against the white fabric, drawing the eye directly to its purpose.
“Bend over,” I commanded, deepening the tone of my voice.
Louisa hesitated, then slowly bent at the waist, bracing her hands on her knees. I reached forward and unfastened the button, watching with satisfaction as the fabric parted to reveal her tight pink hole.
“Perfect,” I murmured, running my finger along the exposed crease. Louisa shivered at my touch, but remained in position. “What do you think, Esme? Would you like to see the full effect?”
Esme tilted her head, considering. “I believe it would be helpful to see how functional they are during actual use. For quality assessment purposes, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed. I slipped my finger between Louisa’s legs, finding her already slick with arousal despite her obvious embarrassment. “Little Lulu is very wet,” I observed. “I think she’s ready for a demonstration.”
I stood and unfastened my trousers, freeing my already hardening cock. Positioning myself behind Louisa, I guided her to bend further, until her upper body was parallel to the floor.
“Stay just like that,” I instructed, lining myself up with her entrance. With one firm thrust, I entered her, eliciting a gasp from my little girl.
Esme watched with professional interest as I began to fuck Louisa, my hands gripping her hips to hold her steady. The panties remained in place around her waist and hips, the openedback providing perfect access while maintaining the humiliating restriction of the garment.
“The elastic seems to be holding up well,” Esme noted clinically. “And the button stitching is quite sturdy.” She circled us, observing from different angles. “Has she taken you anally yet?”
“Not yet,” I replied, never breaking my rhythm. “Though I plan to introduce her to that very soon.”
Louisa whimpered at my words, her inner muscles clenching around me. I glanced at my watch, to see that the data from her perineal sensor showed a spike in arousal at the mention of anal. Perfect.
Louisa
I couldn’t believe the way my body responded to the intensity of the humiliation Jax and this elegant older woman had heaped on me. To be discussed in front of a stranger like I wasn’t even there, to have my sexual responses clinically analyzed while being fucked—it was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. And yet my pussy clenched traitorously around Jax’s cock, my arousal building with each deep thrust despite my mental protests.
“Her readings are quite remarkable,” Esme commented, glancing at a small tablet she’d pulled from her portfolio. “Some of the strongest responses I’ve seen to forced sexual ageplay.”
I frowned in confusion. Readings? What readings?
“Mmm,” Jax agreed, his pace increasing. “She’s responding beautifully to everything.” His hand came down in a sharp slap against my exposed bottom, making me yelp. “Especially punishment.”
“I can see that,” Esme replied, her clinical tone never wavering. “The perineal sensor shows a definite correlation between pain and arousal. Very promising for her training.”
Perineal sensor? The words sent a chill through me even as Jax’s cock continued to stroke deep inside. They had put something inside me? They were monitoring me?
“What are you talking about?” I gasped, trying to look over my shoulder. “What sensor?”
