With a quavering sigh, I did so. He moved to kneel between my legs and ran his warm hands up my thighs, pressing them wider and rubbing his thumbs in the sensitive hollows at the top. I felt totally vulnerable, my most secret area spread open and exposed to his gaze. Despite myself, I could feel my pussy swelling as his gentle fingers spread my labia, exploring every crease and fold. I closed my eyes, blushing hard, caught between arousal and embarrassment.
He talked quietly as his fingers drifted across me. "You have a lovely pussy, darling. So pink and soft. But this hair will just get in the way." He leaned back and I heard a soft whoosh, and then the cool touch of shaving cream against my skin. He spread it in thick circles on my mound and outer labia, the soft foam tickling my clit. He wiped his hands on my towel, and then leaned over to pick something up. I gasped as cold metal touched me, just below my belly button. "Open your eyes."
I did, blinking and peering down my belly. A silver gleam caught my eyes, and I stared, horrified, at the old-fashioned straight razor he held in his hand, resting on my belly. Light gleamed from its honed edge, scalpel-sharp. The long blade was pointed upwards, thankfully, as I couldn't stop a full-body shudder of dread. Miles gave me a stern look. "You'll need to hold very still, darling. I wouldn't want to cut you." Aghast, I met his eyes. Surely he wasn't serious? He was. I fisted my fingers in the towel underneath me and dropped my head with a thud, my stomach churning with fear.
With a firm hand on my belly commanding stillness, he began to shave me. He started on my mound, a few inches above my clit, with short strokes of the blade against my trembling skin. After each rasping pull, he rinsed the razor in a bowl of water, and then wiped it on the towel before returning to his dangerous task. I bit my lip, fists tightening, as he approached the top of my cleft, delicately tracing the plump flesh with the honed edge of the razor.
As he worked his way down my pussy, he moved his free hand to pull on my folds, flattening and tightening my skin for each pass of the razor. The rhythmic touches on my clit and labia sent shocks of pleasure through me, to mix with the raw dread of the blade into a complex storm of emotions. I could feel my pussy heat and moisten in response, my juices trickling down my folds. Noticing my helpless arousal, he teased me, pinching and rubbing my clit even as the razor continued its dangerous voyage down my pussy.
"You like this, don't you." He murmured, and my breath caught as he slid the razor across my inner labia, brushing the dewy flesh with the threatening metal. He had finished once side of my labia, and shifted to the other, spreading and flattening my folds in the opposite direction. As he tugged and arranged my pussy, he slid his fingers teasingly against my clit and then further down, probing the entrance to my body with a finger-tip. Each sweet caress only emphasized the rasping passage of the razor, and I quivered, desperately trying to hold still, in terror of its edge against my most vulnerable flesh.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of this erotic torture, he sat up, dropping the razor into the bowl with a satisfied sigh. He wiped my pussy with a damp washcloth, oddly slick against my shorn skin. As he finished, I gasped in a relieved breath and tried to close my legs. A sharp slap against my twat shocked me, and I froze. "Let a man inspect his work, darling!"
Hard hands shoved my thighs apart, and he leaned in close, his hot breath brushing my swollen pussy. I moaned as his tongue slid down my cleft, slick against my smoothed skin. My twat throbbed as the wet heat of his mouth settled over my clit, flicking the sensitive nub until I cried out, raising my hips against him. He slid his hand up my thigh, once more probing my virgin entrance, in rhythm with the clever motions of his tongue against my clit. Panting, I reached down and sank my hands in his hair, grinding his face against my aching pussy.
He took the hint, picking up the pace and driving his finger deeper into my clenching pussy. The erotic sensations pooled in my belly, a twisting knot of pleasurable tension that made me moan. Then his reaching finger found some undiscovered spot deep inside my body, and I froze, straining and gasping. The coiled tension in my core built and built, until with one last hard thrust of his finger it shattered. I cried out as shards of hot pleasure ricocheting through me, making me jerk and quiver, my pussy tightening around his finger with each surge of sensation. As the waves subsided, I went limp, gasping for breath on the hard tiled floor, filled with tingling warmth.
Miles sat beside me, smoothing back the drying tangles in my hair as I panted and trembled on the floor. Recovering, I couldn't help but notice his hard cock, outlined under the damp slacks he still wore. I reached for him, wanting to feel its firm length in my hands, but he blocked the motion and rose to his feet. "Umm... don't you want me to...?" I let the words drift off, not really sure what I was offering him. A pained smile crossed his face, and he shook his head.
"Later, darling, but thanks for the thought." He held out a hand, and when I took it, pulled me easily to my feet. He lifted my chin and dropped a quick kiss across my lips. "Don't worry, there's still a lot I intend to teach you."
Basking in his approval, my brain loose and fuzzy with the after-glow, I couldn't help blurting out the question that had been bothering me all morning. "Why would your ex-wife buy you a virgin?" I regretted it the moment the words slipped out. The growing warmth between us vanished in an instant, like a cloud passing before the sun, and he stepped back. I started to stammer an apology, but he raised a hand, stopping me cold.
"I guess that's a fair question, considering that you're a part of this ugly business now." He shrugged broad shoulders, and then sighed. "There's a critical board meeting later this week, and I still have a significant portion of the voting stock in my... her company. Perhaps she's trying to buy my support?" He looked down, scowling at the floor. "Either that or... well, during one of our fights, she informed me that the only way any woman would want to play my 'sick games' is if she didn't know any better. So you may be a particularly cruel taunt."
Despite his casual tone, a thread of genuine hurt wound through his explanation. I stepped forward, desperate to ease the pain my unthinking question had given him. Wrapping my arms around him, I buried my face against his shirt, and after a startled hesitation, his arms came up too. The warm embrace didn't last though, as my stomach gurgled loudly, breaking the moment. I flushed, embarrassed but he laughed, tightening his arms briefly before gently pushing me back.
"Are you hungry? Let's get something to eat. Perhaps you'd like to get dressed, although I love seeing you au naturale." I blushed even harder, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Darling, I thoroughly enjoy how responsive you are. You climax so quickly for me, it's utterly delightful." I trembled as my pussy throbbed in response to this intimate compliment. He smiled knowingly and went on. "But I'm afraid we can't spend all day in the bathroom! Get dressed, and we'll have some breakfast." He gestured at a pile of clothes on the bathroom counter, and then left the room.
As soon as he was gone, I leapt for the clothes. He'd found me a blue cotton sundress, slightly too small for me, and undergarments. The silky panties were oddly heavy, with some flat device sewn under the cotton lining in the crotch. With no other options, I slipped them on a bit nervously. I sure as hell wasn't going to go anywhere without underwear! The bra fit snugly, lifting my small breasts and giving me an unexpected amount of cleavage. The tight bodice of the sundress lifted my tits even higher, into smooth mounds of pale skin that rose temptingly over the square neckline. Somewhat surprisingly, the tight dress had a modest hemline, with a draping skirt that fell just above my knees.
I still wore the flat metal bands from the slave shackles around my wrists and ankles, of course. The shiny metal cuffs almost could be mistaken for some kind of weird jewelry, and so I did my best to ignore them. Some flat sandals completed the casual outfit, a few sizes too big but still wearable. Humming and relaxed, I brushed out my long hair, leaving it romantically loose around my shoulders.
Feeling pretty and sophisticated in the borrowed clothes, I left the bathroom. The luxurious bedroom was as I remembered it from the night before, with the heavy four-poster bed dominating the room. My footsteps silent on the thick carpet, I walked to the far door, cautiously opening it. I hadn't left the room since my blind-folded arrival. The hallway beyond was surprisingly austere, and I hesitated, unsure which way to go.