Jax’s hand tangled in my hair, forcing my head down. “Quiet, Little Lulu. The grownups are talking.”
“But—” I began, only to be silenced by another sharp slap to my bottom.
“I said quiet,” Jax repeated, his words a growl, soft but terribly menacing. “Or I’ll have to show Ms. Leopold how thoroughly I can punish my naughty little girl.”
I bit my lip, swallowing my questions as Jax continued to fuck me with deep, measured strokes. The panties still on me though my daddy’s cock moved in and out of my bare pussy, their ruffles so girlish, felt like a symbol of everything that was happening to me—something that looked innocent on the surface, but had been perverted into a tool for my subjugation.
“Now,” Jax continued, speaking to Esme as if I wasn’t even there, “I’d like her to have some special dresses for when we have company. Something that looks modest, but allows easy access.”
“I have several designs in mind,” Esme replied. She moved to stand in front of me, bending slightly to look into my face as Jax continued to thrust into me from behind. “Sweet girl, how do you feel about pleated skirts? They provide excellent coverage while allowing your daddy to check your panties whenever he wishes.”
The casual way she asked this question—as if inquiring about my favorite color—while watching me being fucked made me want to die of shame. Yet still my traitorous body responded, my pussy growing wetter, my nipples hardening further.
“I-I don’t know,” I stammered, gasping as Jax hit a particularly sensitive spot inside me.
“She’ll look charming in pleats,” Jax opined.
“And perhaps a sailor dress for when you take her on your yacht,” Esme suggested, her eyes never leaving my face as she observed my reactions. “Navy blue with white trim, very traditional. The kind of outfit that would make anyone who saw her think of an innocent little girl on an outing with her daddy.”
My mind reeled at the way they discussed dressing me up like a doll while Jax continued to use my body. The idea of being paraded around in public in childish clothing, with these special panties underneath that would allow Jax access to my most private places at any moment—horrified me. Itshouldhave horrified me. To my distress, though, I felt another surge of wetness around his cock.
“I think she likes that idea,” Jax observed, his voice thick with satisfaction as he felt my response. “Don’t you, Little Lulu?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, the words emerging unbidden.
Esme smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “They always do, once they accept who they truly are.” She straightened and moved back to her portfolio. “Now, about nightwear. I suggest several babyish nightgowns, perhaps with matching panties, and at least one special occasion nightie for when you want to reward her.”
“Perfect,” Jax agreed, his rhythm becoming more insistent. “And I want at least one outfit that’s specifically designed for public punishment. In front of guests, at any rate.”
I gasped, my head jerking up despite his grip on my hair. “Public?—?”
Another sharp slap landed on my bottom. “What did I say about speaking, Little Lulu?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whimpered, lowering my head again.
“As I was saying,” Jax continued, his voice steady despite his increasingly forceful thrusts, “I want something that allows me to bare her bottom quickly and efficiently when she needs correction in public.”
“I have just the design,” Esme assured him. “A romper with a panel in the back that fastens with small buttons. You can undo them in seconds to expose her for spanking, then button her up again when you’re finished.”
The image of being spanked in public, my bottom bared for anyone to see, sent a confusing mix of terror and arousal through me. I pressed my lips together to keep from making a sound, but my body betrayed me again, my vagina clenching around Jax’s cock.
“She’s very close to climax,” Esme observed, glancing at what must have been the readout from this mysterious sensor they’dmentioned. “Would you like me to leave so you can finish with her?”
“No need,” Jax replied. “I don’t want her to come right now anyway. This is a training session, not a reward.” He pulled out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. “Stand up straight and face us, Little Lulu.”
I straightened on trembling legs, my face burning as I turned to face them both. My pussy throbbed with denied release, and I could feel my own wetness on my inner thighs. The panties remained open at the back, a humiliating reminder of how I’d just been used.
“Could you refasten her?” Jax asked Esme. “I want to see how well the button works after vigorous activity.”
I felt Esme’s cool fingers at my backside as she pulled the fabric together and secured the pearl button. “As I said, the stitching is quite sturdy,” she noted. “And the elastic maintains excellent tension.”
“Good,” Jax said, tucking himself back into his pants. “Now, let’s continue with the measurements.”
For the next hour, I stood naked except for the special panties while Esme measured every inch of my body. She worked methodically, recording each measurement in a small leather-bound notebook.
“Arms out to the sides,” she instructed, measuring across my shoulders. “Now turn… perfect.”
Through this humiliating experience, I retreated into my mind, seeking refuge in my Georgia Jones fantasy. In my imagination,Georgia’s wedding night continued, her new husband leading her to their marital bed after her punishment.