Chapter 3

Dominique

I'm feeling a mixture of fear and excitement, wondering what exactly will happen to me inside this room. I'm standing in front of the closed door. Oh, how I want to get in and at the same time turn and run without looking back. Even if it costs my job. I still want to kick myself for having done such a stupid thing! At the same time, I'm also curious to know what he wants with me.

He couldn't just forget about me, could he? It was pretty simple, I'm going to have lunch very calmly and I'll try to put aside the shit done. But, no, the Almighty has not forgotten. Now what will happen in there, only God knows!

I end up taking all the courage I have left and enter his room at once. The judge is more powerful than ever, sitting very comfortably at his table. I just can't see what he was doing underneath it.

I startle when he orders me to close the door, wake up from the trance of drooling over him and do as he asks. I'm excited, seeing him there, sitting. Is it silly that I say I'm very nervous? Oh fuck, I'm scared to death of him and at the same time turned on by the way he's undressing me with his eyes… Damn, this feels so good.

"Are you going to stand there?" he asks bossily.

'Do you need anything?' I reply with another question, almost stuttering.

"Yes, I need you to come here, as I ordered!" he exclaims, and I go to him. When I get close and stand in front of him, I get scared.

"H-um..." I stutter. It's so beautiful to see him play, but I turn away, knowing I'm very flushed.

"Are you ashamed, Miss Ferreira?" he teases.

— You're busy, I'll be back later! — I speak quickly and go to the front door, but I hear his voice:

“Come back here, Dominique! he orders, then I turn to my back, because I'm shaking, a lot.

- I can not...! I whisper, I hear footsteps coming towards me and I want to look to see if he still has his dick out.

"Oh yes, of course you can…" he says, whispering in my ear and making my body tingle.

"Sir, I'd better get out..." I say, stuttering.

“Let's be honest: you don't want to leave here! he says, running his hands through my hair and setting it aside. His hands go to my neck, and I end up shivering at the feel of his mouth on my skin.

“Sir, please…” I whisper.

- Talk again?

- Say what? I ask, confused.

- "Sir". You have no idea how I feel right now having heard that.

"What if I don't want to talk?" — I provoke him unintentionally.

“Aaah, that, my God, you're perfect! he says, groaning, and God help me to control myself, because hearing his groans doesn't help me at all.

- Me, perfect?

“Yes, you are perfect for me! “I get no reaction.

'You're wrong, Mr Ruiz!'

"So you think you're not perfect for me?" - He asks and turns me around, making me face him.

- Exactly! I say, looking at him steadily.

— I tell you one thing: you are very wrong! — He speaks with such determination, I almost believe it and speak without realizing it:

- I'll pretend to believe!

"What do you mean, you don't believe it?"

“No, I don't. Why would you look at me? I snapped and mentally cursed myself.

"So you really think I don't feel anything for you?" He asks again.

"Yes, that's what I believe!" I answer frankly. I know very well that men like him never look at women like me!

Oh, how I had desires and dreams of getting married and having a family. Only that will never happen, and do you know why? Because men like him, full of money, hot, very handsome, never look at a simple maid.

"What's going through your little head so much?" he asks curiously, snapping me out of the negative thoughts that always occur to me when I get stressed.

— Nothing that interests you, Your Honor — I deflect, I'm not really in the mood to talk about how I feel. Also, it's not good to be around him too long.

"Yes, everything about you interests me, Miss wanton..." he whispers again, and, God, what voice is that? I must be paying for all my sins.

“Please let me out! - I beg.

— I said no! He responds, pissing me off.

"If you don't let me out of here, I'm going to make a fuss!" — I threaten him, and what does he do? He keeps smiling that way that makes my panties wet.

"Then scream, I want to see!" he encourages. I look at him and open my mouth, threatening to scream, when he pulls me closer into his arms, he lifts my head and says, "I want to see if Miss wanton really has the guts to scream out loud that she wants the judge to fuck you." ?

"And who said I want to have sex with you?" He smiles again, and watching his expression isn't doing my sanity much good.

- Oh no? You will deny that you must hit a really hot crab, imagining what my big dick is going to do when meet your pretty little pussy? — he asks, I blush, but he continues as if nothing is happening: — One thing I can be sure: if I touch you I'll find you dripping with desire for me.

"Your Honor, please...?" I whisper nervously, if he's really going to carry out that threat, I know I'll be in trouble.

"Please what, miss wanton?" – he asks me.

"I need to get back to work!" - I warn, trying to get up, and he says:

"We're not done yet, Miss wanton!"

— Yes, we're done! I speak firmly, and when I manage to get out of his arms, I hear him saying:

"Oh, so it won't be a problem, will it?" he asks suddenly. I don't understand anything when, suddenly, the judge picks me up and takes me straight to his table.

'What are you doing?' I ask anxiously, but I think I'm dreaming.

"Let's see if I'm right?" he teases, quickly lifts my dress and rips my panties off. I stood with my legs wide open, watching him pick up the piece and bring it to his nose. — What a wanton liar, is she deserving of punishment? – He asks, using the serious tone he only uses when pronouncing a sentence. By the look of it, I know I'm in trouble.

Now the question is, should I run away or receive punishment?