Thread: Paradise Isle  (Fades & Good Girls)

And there it was. That name. Etched upon parchment by ink-dipped feather, a manner that admittedly was more for show than doing it in some sterile lawyer's office somewhere, the quaint display was a crossroad in not only her life, but his. Ariana Grande was no more. Ariana was his, simply. As was the allure of her hips. Of her lovely hair. Of her perfect-for-her-frame breasts. Of her taut little rear end that, yes, had perfectly fit against his lap in that tease a moment ago a round hole upon a round peg, so to speak. And of a rear end that, not lost amidst any of this, was indeed wholly and utterly spankable, if not encouraged moreso by her youthful demeanor. Something told him that in the days to come, his Ariana might not take like a fish to water in the same way her new sister might. And that those moments, perhaps, would be entirely on purpose. He watched her, all of her, as she leaned over and signed, no true hesitation shown in that final act of her freedom, legally binding herself into slavery for the rest of her life. The brand was just symbolic. Jeffrey stood still, his chest swelling with pride as his second pretty thing rose from her bend against the table and walked back toward the crowd, her naked form now on full display. This made two-for-two, so far. He watched her, making no desire of hiding his warm, wide smile as she walked on by him, took the stage front and center, not terribly far from where Emilia remained obediently knelt, and knelt herself. He watched her display herself at a closeness only lovers had ever been privy to before. He watched her lean back, forming a triangle, vulnerably, obediently putting herself on display. La Touche Finale glowed like a sore, orange thumb. Everyone got very quiet then, breathing, just watching. Jeffrey took slow, heavy steps then, black Armani shoes clicking against the stage with a weight he couldn't hide as deftly as his more slender counterpart. He leaned. He bent. He retook the dark walnut handle in his grip and let out a slow, heavy breath before standing again. More footsteps, making no effort to hide them. Measured. Not too fast. Not too slow. A pace that saw everyone present grow heavy with seriousness, not least of all his Ariana and he. She'd first be able to feel his shins pressed against the backs of her shoulders and arms. As he had with Emilia, Jeffrey took a seat on the stage directly behind Ariana. He even placed a hand on her shoulder as he sat down, temporarily pushing her forward from her triangle so he could more snugly fit behind her without having to pull the brunette back into him, which would have robbed even inches from the up-close view being put on offer. He let her move back into that position right after he was in place, which saw her head near his right shoulder, her body back into a perfectly-formed triangle, the light from above leaving no curve to the imagination. I will tell you the same thing I told Emilia before, he whispered, for her, for them, for them alone. A hand slipped around her side, his left hand going underneath her arm, around her back, and tracing a fingertip just around the pretty little nipple, that sat upon a pretty little breast his touch indented. Don't be afraid to be human, in this next moment. If you need to scream. Cry. Drool. Beg. Whatever ear-piercing shrieks or embarrassing spasms... You're already my girl, with a gentle kiss to the side of her face, just in front of her ear. We're about to enter into a new life together. The fingertip left her breast, traveling down the expanse of her tummy. You're a very special part of that, Ariana. It went down to her waist. He leaned against her some as it went further, going from her hip to her thigh, from her thigh to her knee. Now as you take your final bow, what say we give them a show? Then, at her knee, he pulled her legs apart, keeping her in that triangle form yet forming a second triangle within it - her feet beneath her butt, her knees splayed, perfectly bare vagina on display. Her pussy. Her cunt. Her box. Her snatch. Her flower. Her hole. Something about the v-word seemed to fit her more adorably in his mind. Emilia, too, through her ladylike demeanor. The next two women were probably p's. The last one, maybe even a c. Bulbs flashed. In seconds images would automatically upload to various streaming news sites on the internet, and the former Disney princess' perfectly smoothed crotch would 'break' them all, as such was the bragging right these days to do. By the way...you are too a big girl. Another kiss, just as gentle, to the side of her face. His left hand came back up, suddenly hugging tight around Ariana's waist. His right brought in the branding iron, just as he'd done before, pressing it to the once-flawless skin above Ariana's left breast, directly overtop her heart. One one-thousand... Two one-thousand... Three one-thousand... Four one-thousand... It was pulled away, steam rising from the skin in its wake.