Discipline of the Private House by Esme Ombreux Read Free Book Online Page B

lacy cups enveloping her breasts took Olena's breath away and, as she struggled with her hands behind her back to hook up the unfamiliar catches, she was aware of her breasts jiggling within their comfortable imprisonment. She had to slide her hands into the cups to make sure that her breasts were sitting properly; her flesh felt hot and sensitive.
    She stood in her room, half in shadow, hardly daring to move.
    Footsteps in the hall. A knock at the door. Barat's voice: 'Olena? Are you there?'
    She started, and reached for the dress. 'Just wait a moment, please,' she called, and pulled the garment over her head. No time for stockings; no time for shoes. Without thinking, she tightened the dress's belt. Then, as she made for the door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the little mirror: her hips and breasts, emphasised by the cinching of her waist, appeared almost unnaturally swollen.
    There was no helping it. Barat was calling again. She opened the door.
    Barat appraised her calmly. There was a smile on his lips, so she assumed he was not displeased. Nonetheless, she felt she had to be sure.
    'It must be wrong to wear these things, Barat,' she blurted out. 'Surely -'
    He stopped her by raising his hand. It was almost a gesture of blessing. 'Do you like your new clothes, Olena?'
    Olena considered the question. Of course she liked her new clothes; the problem was to protest enough to convince Barat of her righteousness, but not enough to make him agree that she should return to wearing the robe and headdress.
    'Yes,' she replied cautiously. 'I suppose so.'
    'There you are, then. You must learn to follow your feelings. That's the sure way to avoid temptation.'
    'Is it?' This sounded paradoxical to Olena, but if Barat said it was so then she was prepared to agree. And she was feeling so strangely excited that she was in no mood to consider points of theology.
    'Of course,' Barat said. 'Now come closer. Let me look at you properly.'
    Olena stepped closer to Barat. There was something in that last word of his, in 'properly', that made her shiver and brought a rush of disturbing and disgraceful images into her mind.
    She was close to him now. So close that he could touch her. For a breathless instant she imagined his hands touching her breasts, then she banished the thought.
    'Your breasts,' he murmured.
    'What?'
    'You have a very nice figure,' he went on. 'I confess I don't know what women in our community wear as underclothes, but I imagine that your new things feel more comfortable. Is that so?'
    'Comfortable,' Olena repeated. Her breasts seemed to be reaching towards him. 'Yes, Barat,' she said, 'but the ends of my, my breasts,' she stammered, faltering as she realised what she was about to say, 'they feel very strange.'
    'Strange? In what way? Not painful?' His voice was full of concern. He was so good and thoughtful, and she was so wanton.
    'Not exactly,' she said, her voice firmer now. 'But tingly and the very ends feel swollen.'
    'The ends? You mean your nipples?
    Olena nodded.
    'Then say the word,' Barat chided, with a smile.
    'My nipples,' Olena whispered. 'They feel swollen.'
    'You mean they feel hard,' Barat said, in a tone that was noticeably harsher. 'Hard and stiff. Is that right?'
    'Yes, brother Barat.'
    His hands pressed against the front of her dress. 'Why, I can feel your nipples through your clothing. Look, you can see how hard they are. This isn't good, Olena.'
    'Is it wrong to have stiff nipples?' Olena asked.
    'Not always.' Barat was judicious. 'There is a much surer sign of impure thoughts in a woman.'
    'And what is that?' Olena said, although she felt her stomach sink and a perverse wave of pleasure run through her, because she was sure that she already knew.
    'The elders tell us that impure thoughts cause a woman to become wet in her private places. Although I cannot imagine how such a thing could be.'
    Olena bowed her head. She wanted his hands on her breasts again. 'I'm very wicked,' she said.
    His