Disclaimer – This story is a work of fiction.  Still I feel it necessary to warn anyone reading this that this story contains themes of reluctance and humiliation that, in addition to my poorly-constructed and repetitive prose, may be off-putting to some readers.  

In addition to suggestions and questions, constructive criticism regarding how I may improve is appreciated and welcome.  If all you have to offer is something along the lines of, “This sucks” or “I am offended even though you already warned me about the content” then I invite you to write your own masterpiece and present it to me so that I and the rest of the world may learn from your genius and your impeccable morality.

        Cynthia looked at William with pleading eyes, “I understand that I need to obey, but…but please don’t make me do this!” 

        “Why not?”   

        “I—I’ll die if you see me without my dress!” She whined.    

        “Cynthia, no girl ever died from being seen without her dress.  Now, no more of this nonsense, do as I say or we’ll have to repeat the lesson!”

        Cynthia stood awkwardly in front of him for long seconds—her cheeks red with embarrassment and her eyes downcast.

        “Well?”  William asked.

        “I can’t, sir!” 

        “Oh, Cynthia, I was warned about marrying a girl so young…”  He let out a weary sign and reached out for her.  The initial lesson had been fun to administer, but it was hard enough to have controlled himself the first time.  He wasn’t sure he could deliver another spanking and resist taking her in the middle of it—if he could even wait that long. 

        “No!”  She said quickly.  “I mean—I mean I can’t because I can’t reach the buttons!”  She motioned to the back of her dress. 

        “Oh!”  William smiled.  “I suppose I can help you then.  Come here.”  He took her narrow shoulders in his hands and turned her around.

        Cynthia inhaled sharply as she felt his fingers fiddle with the top button of her wedding gown.  The first button popped in the still atmosphere of the room, then the second, then the third. 
        On the fourth button William asked, “If you didn’t think you were supposed to undress in front of me, how were you intending to get out of this dress, Mrs. Johnston?”

        Cynthia laughed nervously, “I—uh—I hadn’t really thought about it, sir!” 

        Another button popped, and another and another.  Cynthia felt the dress begin to fall.  She raised her hands and trapped it to her chest. 

        “Cynthia.”  William admonished her.

        “Sorry, sir!”  She squeaked and reluctantly let go with a tiny sigh. 

        The white satin dress flowed down her like an avalanche and heaped around her dainty, stocking feet. 

         “Turn around.”  He ordered. 

        “I don’t suppose you’d consider closing your eyes?”  Cynthia teased half-seriously. 

        “Turn around.”  He repeated. 

        Cynthia took a deep breath and slowly did as she was told.  She was only halfway turned when her skinny arms came up, seemingly of their own volition, and crossed over her pert little breasts. 

        William took all of her in through his eyes.  His bride was lovely.  She reminded him of a delicate porcelain doll.    

        “Put your arms down.”  William ordered.  He hoped his voice was even.  He could no longer tell with the blood rushing in his ears.

        Cynthia looked up at him.  Her eyes were wide and entreating. 

        “Stop being so modest, Cynthia!”  He smirked at her.  “I’ve already seen you in a bathing suit.  You’re more covered now than you were then!”

        “This is different!”  She insisted.  “I—I’ve never been in my underwear in front of a man before!” 

        “Do I need to help you again?”  He asked, not meaning for his question to sound like a threat. 

         Cynthia pressed her lips together thoughtfully and then nodded.  “It would be easier for me if you did it, sir,” she admitted.      

         William gently took her wrists and moved her hands to her sides and then looked her over.  Cynthia was dressed in only a white, lace-trimmed bustier, matching panties and a similarly lace embellished garter belt which held up white silk stockings.  The bustier cinched her already slim waist and pressed her tiny, alabaster breasts together giving her the appearance of having a larger chest.  Her cleavage was a pleasant and inviting illusion, however! 

         Cynthia had thought the same thing when she’d first tried on the bustier at the lingerie store a month before the wedding and saw her reflection in the changing room mirror.  Much like her panties, it was a far cry from the dull, frumpy white cotton bras she’d worn up till then.  She’d even gone so far as to remark to her mother with a pleased and bewildered look on her face, “I have cleavage!”  After which her mother shushed her with a smile.

          “You’re beautiful,” William said as he gently rested his hands on her hips.  

          Cynthia felt like she was going to melt in his arms.  She’d never thought of herself as beautiful or even pretty.  She was at best “cute” and even that didn’t seem plausible to her.  Still, she trusted William’ opinion over hers.  After all, while she wasn’t supposed to know, she like all girls and women of Brentwood knew that gentlemen had a great deal of experience with women prior to marriage, so he certainly would have plenty of other girls to compare her to!

            William wasn’t sure he could control himself much longer.  True, he had women before, many with much greater endowments, but Cynthia was his wife, his property and he could do with her as he liked.  Without a word he turned Cynthia back around and started undoing the hooks on the back of her bustier. 

            “Wait!”  Cynthia cried, feeling like she was suddenly caught in a violent current without knowing how to swim.  “Wait I—”

            “No.”  William said.  His stern tone had returned.  

             Cynthia felt the confining garment come away from her warm, supple skin.  Despite her fear rising with each hook William unfastened she found that she was at least able to breathe easier.  She found herself chewing on the finger tips of her bridal gloves nervously until finally the last hook popped and her bustier was drawn away from her and placed over the nearby chair.  Cynthia’s skinny arms came up again to cover her perky, now-bare breasts.  Embarrassingly, the cool night air made her point.  Cynthia’s pink nipples were sensitive as her arms brushed them making her squirm a bit as she waited for William to inevitably push her further. 

             William ran his finger down the back of her garter belt, and then slipped them between her garter and her skin.  Cynthia shivered as she felt his fingers brushing against the especially tender skin right under the curve of her bottom.  “William, I—” She gasped shakily, her hips wiggling. 

            William smiled wickedly and snapped the garter making Cynthia squeak.  Then he reached up to unfasten the belt.  Her white silk stockings rolled down her legs effortlessly.  Cynthia awkwardly stood on one foot and then the other as William pulled each stocking off and set them over the chair. 

            “Now you can be embarrassed.”  William remarked as he looked at his wife’s narrow bare back.  Her shoulder blades stuck out slightly as she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze wearing only her “grownup panties” and her gloves.  The redness from her recent spanking glowed through the thin, white satin hugging her slight curves. 

            “What do you mean?”  She asked, suddenly feeling brave enough to look over her shoulder at him.

            “Now you’re in less than a bathing suit!”  He smirked.

            Cynthia laughed nervously and then looked forward again.  She had to keep reminding herself that being undressed like this in front of William was okay.  For the moment she was grateful that the warm sting on her bottom helped her to remember not to fight him. 

            “Do you suppose you can manage taking off your own gloves?”  William asked.

            Cynthia nodded, “Yes, sir.  I think I can manage that!”  She replied. 

            As Cynthia laid the gloves over the chair, William reached out with both hands and hooked his fingers into her panties.  He’d taken them down not even a full hour before and had gotten a good look at her during the spanking, but this was different.  The soft material floated down her warmed, crimson behind.  William felt momentarily guilty.  Perhaps he had been too hard on her.  After all, she was very young and this was her first experience with anything remotely sexual in nature.  He quickly pushed his doubts aside as pulled her panties down to her ankles.  Kneeling next to her he ordered her to step out of them.  Cynthia raised one leg shyly, trying to keep her thighs together as she did.  Despite this, William’ nostrils caught a hint of Cynthia’s delicate and sweet, yet faintly sour, scent.

            Cynthia gasped as the cool, evening air tickled her freshly shaved womanhood.  Body hair, as her mother had told her, was unfeminine.  William could see everything and she knew it. 

    “It’s perfectly alright!”  She reminded herself again and again.  His cool hands touched her warmed backside making her jump.  Slowly, he turned her around.  Cynthia took deep breaths, fearing that she might faint.  His hands were still on her hips when he’d finished turning her around.  She managed to look up and see his face for a moment before returning her gaze to the carpet.  He was studying her with seemingly great interest.  Part of her enjoyed that she enthralled him so much, but as the moments ticked by in silence, she finally blurted out, “Well…don’t you like me?” 

            William smiled at his young wife’s impulsiveness and her indelicacy.  “What makes you ask?”

            Her shyness returning, Cynthia sheepishly explained, “Well, it’s just you’re staring at me and…”

            “That should tell you that I like you.”  William playfully bopped her nose.  Then he reached up and started untying his tie.  “I suppose it’s only fair to give you a chance to stare too.”