Wild Turey Estates

The Emerald Green Dress.

Carrie peered at herself in the gold framed floor to ceiling mirror, a near twin to the one to her vanity's, staring blankly at her own reflection. Esme had kept it simple when laying out her clothing for this evening. An emerald green dress, the only adornment a bow at the very back in a similar but lighter shade of green that ran under her bust. It created an inch of contrasting partition on her dress, giving it that babydoll look he relished so much. Her hair was pulled back into a loose espresso colored braid that fell to the small of her back, and the modest gold studs Esme bought her as housewarming gift adorned her ears. Outside of that the only additional piece of jewelry she wore was the simple gold bangle that hung with slight slack with the words 'For My Little One' engraved inside still locked tightly by its opulent hexagonal lock that only he possessed the key to. Matthew Jensen might not have been interested in projecting to the world their personal lives, but he also wasn't in the business of allowing her to forget to whom she belonged.

"You look beautiful," he appeared behind her, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Carrie's ear, "What a pretty little girl I have."

She smiled sheepishly and looked down at her patent leather Mary Janes. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck softly. At this proximity Carrie could smell his almond soap mixed with his pheromones, she shuddered.

"We have a guest tonight," Matt made eye contact with her via the mirror, "and I'm certain you'll behave like a young lady." he raised a brow at her.

She bobbed her head slowly. When he'd made mention of having a guest earlier Carrie had hoped that he was kidding. Esme had made her macaroni and cheese and Matt sat watching her at the dinning room table. She wasn't happy as jealousy blossomed in her chest and spread throughout her body like an electrical current.

"Use your words Little One," Matt coaxed her gently. He had become acutely aware that after she had been cuffed her whole demeanor had changed. Carina the outspoken, obnoxious, wench that he's picked up at the head of Gravel Drive appeared to have melted away. Who stood looking in the mirror here and now was his shy 8yr old little, Carrie. This was who Matt had expected on his way to pick up Carina and he was relieved to see that it was ironically enough a locking bangle that had unlocked the little girl.

"Yes, Sir," she responded coyly.

"Dinner is at seven thirty," he murmured into her neck, lips brushing the soft skin, "I know that is gonna be a little late for you once it's over, but I know you had a nap earlier. So, you should be alright." He kissed the nape of her neck again and she nodded timidly while willing her body to maintain its excellent posture. Matt didn't approve of slouching; it was substandard to him.

"I'm sure it will be a long night for my little one and I don't want you irritable," his hand slid down the curvature of her hip towards the edge of the emerald equator where the silk stopped and the white crinoline began. The calloused pads of his fingers tenderly swept up the back side of her thigh to the fault line of where her rotund backside and ample thigh met. Carrie subtly leaned into him permitting him an overflowing hand of flesh.

"His name is Aaron," he reminded her, "He's seems eager to meet you. And I want the two of you to get along." His melodic drawl wrapped itself around her neck.

Carrie had frowned and stiffened at the comment, just as she had done at lunch, and wanted to pull away but his hold on her was firm. She didn't much care for the idea of sharing Sir, but she also knew that she wasn't really being given a choice in the matter either. If Matt saw fit to invite over company than little Carrie was to behave herself and not embarrass him.

"Carrie," Matt spoke sternly to her, beckoning her to attention, "do I need to take my belt to you now as a preemptive measure?" It was at that point he noted she wasn't paying attention to him. Matt was not thrilled at the prospect of losing the reigns this early or at all for that matter. Carrie had pouted the better part of the afternoon after lunch. She was taciturn and he just assumed she was in one of her moods, something told him he would need keep an eye on that attitude of hers.

"No Sir," Carrie shook her head, glanced down and slightly to her right at the dense russet leather belt he'd selected for tonight's attire. Her backside prickled at the thought of receiving a spanking for the first time. Matt had scolded her and put her into timeout before, but he had yet to belt her. Even when being bratty Carrie knew her limits.

"Good," he said in a fixed tone.

"Forward," he instructed. She tilted slightly forwards unnerved at the prospect of him giving her a good whooping anyway. Instead Matt slid two of his fingers between her swollen folds and inside her. Carrie's whole body hummed, and she parted her modestly tinted lips to exhale with great force. Matt withdrew his fingers and examining the viscous fluid on his fingers, grinning he rubbed his index, middle finger, and thumb together.

"You're wet," he smirked, Carrie observed that she had done right by him and beamed. Wrapping his free hand around her neck, Matt pinned her against him, his erection pushing against the seam of his indigo dress jeans and his teeth bared. He raised his fingers glazed with the liquid elation to her lips.

"Go on," he observed closely as Carina opened her mouth and slowly lapped herself off his fingers, "Good girl."

There were those coveted words, the ones that made her want to kneel before bed, not to pray to god but to worship Matt. As much as she would like to have skipped dinner and go straight to desert, she knew better than to be greedy, inpatient, and rush things. That tactic would only get her into more trouble than she could cope with. From her understanding, the conversation she and Matt had had over lunch prior to her nap was explicitly clear. Carrie was in no manner to embarrass or humiliate him for if she chose to go that route, she would live to regret that decision for days to come.

Satisfied with her performance he released his grip, then checked his watch, "It's seven so I'm going to head downstairs. Be good little one, I am in no mood for a second bout of attitude," he cut his eyes at her, she knew he was referring to the Jetta incident. Which thus far had been the one and only time she'd slipped up that badly, "You will not escape my wrath if that happens again. Consider this your one and only warning."

Matt briefly returned his hand to her cunt and brushed his thumb against her sensitive clit as a reminder of the reward for well-mannered behavior.

Before leaving, Matt turned to face her, hooking a hand around the back of her neck fingers clutching at her tightly, held her gaze, and then kissed her forehead before leaving her alone in her room. The door closed behind him with a near silent click. Carrie returned her focus to the mirror once again, only this time her arms hung by her side hands clenched in tight fists, nails burrowing little halfmoons into her palms.