The Hot Adventures Of Cool Félise
Anonymous
Publisher: Lot's Cave, Inc.
Summary
DESCRIPTION: Dive into the scandalous adventures of Félise, the tale of a college-aged vixen driven to seduce her mysterious Professor Stephan before her rivals do, and answer the burning question, “Does Lust rule the world?” Finding herself caught in one steamy and hilarious mishap after another, Félise is literary smut filled with double-crosses, delicious plot twists, and outrageous characters that you won’t ever forget! EXCERPT: Looking at me, the principal asked, “Did you enjoy touching yourself in the toilette, Félise?” I couldn’t think of what to say. If I said yes, then I’d be confessing; if no, then I’d obviously be lying— and confessing! “No,” I said, after a moment of panicked thinking. “So,” he said, “you admit to fingering your little red quim in the toilette, all warm and puckered for your touch?” ‘No!” I said, bursting into tears. “I wasn’t touching anything! Nothing was puckered! Please let me go! I’ll do anything! Anything! Please!” “Strumpet!” he shouted. “Have you no shame? Putting your unclean fingers where you are not allowed to touch! Oh yes, and sliding them all over, and even inside! You reveled in it, didn’t you Félise? And you despise being caught!” “No, Monsieur!” I cried. “Yes! No! What I mean— I’m sorry, Monsieur, so truly sorry! I’m very bad! Very bad and awful!” “Harlot! Why are you bad? Why awful? Tell me!” he demanded. “Monsieur, because I am a horrible girl!” was my woeful, inadequate reply. He glared at me, waiting for more. I blurted out at last, “That touches herself!” A fresh trickle of tears rolled down my cheeks. “Ah! Now we hear the truth of it, Madame Hortense!” cried the principal. My belly tightened around the chocolate orange torte I’d had for breakfast and began to ache. I couldn’t believe I’d confessed to everything he accused me of doing, even if it was all true. “Oh, please,” I begged him, “don’t spank me! I promise I didn’t like it! Oh, I swear it was awful!” “What lies!” roared the principal. “What outrageous lies!” I was sobbing harder than ever, but the interrogation wasn’t over. “I believe,” he said, “I believe you bother and worry your pretty bijoux incessantly.” “No, Monsieur, not incessantly! I can’t, I couldn’t— even move afterward!” Madame Hortense pricked up her ears at my naive admission. “Oh!” she cried, “If only I’d been witness to her frolicking in the toilette! Just the thought of her in ecstasy makes me drunk!” “Yes, would that we’d all been there, Madame Hortense,” sighed the principal. “We’ll find consolation for our loss after we punish the feverish, impenitent schoolgirl who robbed our eyes of the sight. We must be about the flogging, or the whole afternoon will be spent.” Flogging! I was panicking. I only had a single chance left to plead my case. Throwing myself at his knees, I cried out, “Oh please, Monsieur, do anything to me! Do anything, but don’t flog me! You can expel me forever, and I’ll never do it again! Won’t you please spare an innocent schoolgirl? Please!”