The Billionaire's Lesson by Anya Adonis Page B

still weak in
the legs, pushed herself to her feet, her hands clenched to the
armrests for support.
    “ Now, lift
your dress up to your waist.”
    She looked at him with
disbelief. “What did you say... sir?”
    “ Lift your
dress to your waist,” he said, enunciating each syllable with
great emphasis as though she was slow.
    “ I-I –
”
    “ I'm going
to put a number down on a piece of paper; if you simply show me your
panties, I will write you a check for that sum, regardless of whether
you do anything more.” He picked up a spiral notebook and with
his finest solid gold pen wrote down a sum. He motioned for her to
stand beside him and showed her the amount. “Is that agreeable?
You're just showing us your underwear after all. I expect we're not
the first men to have seen them.”
    Her face burned bright
red and she bit her lip. “Okay.” She slowly reached down
to the bottom of her dress and began to pull it up.
    “ No, no. Do
that over there.” He gestured to the side of his desk. “Junior
won't be able to see.”
    The lump in my throat
grew even tighter as I watched her staring in our direction blankly.
It was like her soul was being extracted before my eyes.
    “ Now, lift
up.”
    A visible shiver shook
through her and she pulled the fabric to her waist. She went to push
it back down immediately after, but Dad snapped, “You aren't
getting paid for a mere panty flash, keep your dress up until I tell
you otherwise.”
    Uncomfortably, she
shifted her weight from foot to foot. God, it must have been so
awkward for her given she wore white granny panties and a pair of
busted, tan garters that barely held her knee-high nylons in place.
    “ Turn
around. I want to see your derriere.”
    Obediently, she pivoted
around with a shuffle of her feet. Even in her saggy underwear, I
could tell she had what one would describe as a heart-shaped butt;
round at the bottom and tapering to her thin waist in an elegant
curve.
    “ Come
closer.” She went to drop the cloth down again, but Dad wagged
his index finger back and forth, and said, “Ah-ah. Keep it up.”
    He examined the front
of her underpants, pushed his fingertip into her mound and chuckled.
“My, my, you're enjoying this. You're absolutely wet to the
touch.”
    Dad continued to molest
her through the thin cotton fabric of her panties and an unfiltered
groan left her lips. Her chin tilted back and she squeezed her eyes
shut.
    I have to admit, I felt
angry with her, as if she'd betrayed me somehow. Not only was she
proving him right, she was enjoying herself.
    Shortly thereafter, her
noises turned into breathless sighs. Dad asked, “Roberta
remember that number I wrote down?”
    She nodded her head and
looked at him through inquisitive eyes.
    “ Let's say
we put a one in front of it. Would you be willing to strip naked and
let Junior spank you?”
    “ Yes,”
she said, without a moment's hesitation.
    He patted her on the
rear affectionately as she turned and removed her clothes. “Good
girl.”
    Her pale flesh exposed,
a wry little smile played across her face at our aroused attention.
The bashful girl of earlier was replaced by a woman, newly aware of
her sexual charms. She placed her palms on the front of Dad's desk
and assumed the position. “How's this?”
    “ Perfect,”
he said, and looked over at me. “Billy-boy, you do this and you
regain my respect.”
    So you see. My
punishment was to punish someone else, someone poorer, more
desperate. A masterstroke from my Dad in proving his point, I guess.
    I stood up, at first,
to storm out of the room, to leave my inheritance behind me, to yell.
But here's the thing, on standing, I realized I'd become painfully
erect. The wind in my sails died and my cheeks burnt hot with
humiliation.
    “ Come on.
This will only take a few minutes of your time, and then you can go
and do whatever it is you do,” he said with a shrug of his
shoulders.
    I glared at him in
displeasure and stepped behind Roberta. My dick