Her Shameful Education Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)

When her new owner brings Renee home after she is sold at auction, the blushing nineteen-year-old quickly discovers that having her bare bottom caned and then thoroughly and publicly claimed isn’t the only shameful thing in store for her as the property of a stern, sexy billionaire.
It turns out that the man who bought Renee is also the proud owner of an AI concubine, and she will be helping him train Renee, teaching her in the most humiliating ways imaginable that her body is no longer her own. But when the impishly naughty AI starts to behave strangely, can Renee convince her owner that what she witnessed was more than just a minor malfunction?

Publisher’s Note: Her Shameful Education is a stand-alone book in the Corporate Correction series. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t read this book.

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My new owner fucked me in front of the entire audience at the auction, after his bid of twelve and a half million dollars had proven the highest. Two enormous screens showed different angles on his enjoyment of his new property. The images on them came from AI-controlled micro-drone cameras, capable of getting into very tight places and thus of showing the most shameful, forbidden views of the scene taking place on the auction stage.

Thirty or so of the global corporate elite, tuxedoed men mostly but with a few haute-couture-clad women mixed in, had the honor of watching my owner’s first use of his new nineteen-year-old bed girl. That lewd spectacle represented a consolation prize of sorts, for the victory he—Hendryk Vanderbruggen, one of the Selecta Corporation’s sizable but nevertheless extremely exclusive cadre of senior vice presidents—had just won over them. Despite their best efforts to acquire me, to have the right to penetrate my pussy, mouth, and anus whenever and however they liked, Master Hendryk now had that right instead of them.

He had purchased me from the world’s foremost trainer of concubines, the facility so renowned among the dominant elite, and yet so hidden from the vast majority of their well-controlled, obedient consumers, that it was known only as the Institute. The auction had featured five concubines in all, and I had come last on the bill.

Each of the other girls sold to the highest bidder that night—including two sets of paired concubines who looked enough alike to be sisters but had never met before arriving at the Institute—sat in the audience as well, by that point. As the hammer fell on Master Hendryk’s winning bid, I could see them, girls I had trained with in the Institute’s shameful classes and tutorials there, watching the same humiliation befall me as had just befallen them.

Some of them still wore the Institute’s ‘uniform’: a silky babydoll nightgown in a color that indicated whether a girl had received fucking or discipline that day. Others had had it stripped away by their new owners as they too had undergone his or her first use of them on stage, just as I would, now that Master Hendryk had purchased me.

They sat upon their masters’ and mistresses’ laps, or they knelt on the floor, or they lay upended over their new owners’ knees, their bare, already red backsides receiving the sort of idle discipline some masters like to bestow. One of the seated ones, a blonde named Kara, gazed back at me, her face as pink as mine. The kneeling ones had been given other duties, for the most part; I watched their heads, held in their owners’ hands, going up and down as they gave the service of their mouths.

One newly acquired concubine, a friend of mine named Martha, had her face forcibly pressed against the furry pussy of a beautiful middle-aged woman in a gold lamé micro dress that she had hiked up to her hips. I saw the beautifully manicured, gold-painted nails of the domme moving in her new bed girl’s raven-dark hair as she was made to perform the degrading duty. I could see from the little movements of her head that Martha was licking frantically at her mistress’ clit, laid open to her just purchased fuck toy’s submissive mouth by the shameless draping of her right knee over the arm of the leather-upholstered chair; half an hour earlier the gorgeous billionaire had worn an ivory strap-on to claim Martha as her own.

Another girl, a honey blonde named Deirdre whom I liked immensely but hadn’t really had the chance to get to know, had her face turned to the floor. She sobbed as her master spanked her bare backside, pausing every now and then to pull apart the two glowing halves of her rear to inspect her tiny, no-longer-virgin anus. He had come fifteen minutes before, after a long, triumphant ride that had made Deirdre cry out with discomfort again and again. The contrast between his black-and-white tuxedoed body and her pale, bare flesh—all except for her painfully rosy bottom—made me feel faint. The sharp, too-familiar noises drifted to my ears where I stood on the stage.

He, a handsome older man with gray hair at his temples, had stripped away Deirdre’s nightgown before he had fucked her on stage. As soon as he had gotten back in the audience with her, he had upended her and immobilized her little bottom with his right leg over her knees and his left hand on her back. Then he had begun spanking her at a slow but steady pace. The girl had done nothing wrong, of course. She had merely had the misfortune to be purchased by a man who liked to spank a pretty bottom.

I had focused on my fellow concubines as I heard my own sale taking place. I had tried not to think about what it meant that I stood on the stage, with my own price going up into the millions and then the tens of millions.