Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“Grace,” I said, her name coming out rougher than intended. “My perfect little New Modesty fuck toy.”
She sobbed at the degrading endearment, but her hips pushed back against me, taking me deeper. I could feel my own climax building, the pressure at the base of my spine that signaled I was close. But I needed something more from her first.
“Tell me what you are,” I demanded, my thumb finding her clit again, circling it with just enough pressure to keep her on edge.
“Your fuck toy,” she gasped immediately. “Your personal slut, your property, your—oh God, sir, please—”
“Please what?”
“Please come inside me,” she begged, her voice breaking. “In my naughty bottom. Please mark me, claim me, fill me with your seed. Teach me to be a good girl for you. I need it, I need you to—”
“Soon,” I growled, “but not until you show me more.” I pulled my thumb away, and Grace whimpered with frustration. “Play with your cunt,” I commanded. “Make yourself come with my cock in your little ass.”
Grace
Part of me thought I should be confused—that I should maybe even talk back, sass my master about the way he kept contradicting himself.
The rest of me understood at a level that went beyond any logic.
I understood that Scott’s contradictions weren’t contradictions at all. They were tests, challenges, ways of pushing me deeper into submission. When he punished me for coming without permission, then commanded me to make myself come—that wasn’t inconsistency. It was dominance in its purest form. My pleasure existed only at his whim, to be granted or denied as he saw fit.
My fingers moved to my whipped pussy automatically and without hesitation, the first touch making me cry out from the sensitivity I found there. The bare, shaven flesh felt hot, swollen, almost alien under my fingertips. But beneath the soreness lay that terrible, wonderful ache that only grew stronger when Scott thrust so deep into my bottom that I thought I might feel the effects of his possession for weeks.
“Look at me while you do it,” he commanded, and I forced my eyes open to meet his gaze. The intensity there made my breath catch. This wasn’t the controlled, professional Scott from the office. This was something rawer, more honest. His face was hard with unconcealed aggression, his eyes narrow and his jaw set in a way that struck me almost as cruel as he maintained the brutal rhythm of his thrusting tool while watching me pleasure myself.
I circled my clit with trembling fingers, each touch sending sparks through my oversensitive flesh. The excess of sensation—his cock stretching my bottom, my own fingers on my punished pussy—created a feedback loop that had me spinning toward climax within moments.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Scott demanded, his hands gripping behind my knees to keep me spread much too wide. “Right now. Don’t filter it.”
“I’m thinking…” I gasped, my fingers moving faster despite the burning sensation. “I’m thinking that I’ve never felt more like myself than right now. That those years before… even… even on NMB… were just… rehearsal. That this is what I was made for—to be used like this, to be yours, to be—oh, God—”
“Continue,” he growled when I broke off, my body starting to tense with approaching orgasm.
“To be nothing but holes for you to fuck,” I sobbed, the words pouring out though I could barely form them through the overwhelming sensations. Something deep inside me needed to confess this truth, though.
“To be… to be trained,” I wept. “M-made… made into exactly what my m-master wants.”
My fingers pressed harder against my swollen clit, and I felt myself approaching the edge. Scott’s cock in my anus seemed to swell even larger, if that was possible, and I knew he was close too.
“I… I th-think about you… I think about you… constantly,” I continued, my voice rising with desperation as my hips jerked uncontrollably under Scott’s. “When I… I wake up… when I’m w-working… when I’m trying… trying to… to sleep. Your hands on me… your big, beautiful c-cock in me… oh… oh, God… y-your voice telling me what to… to do.”
“Come,” he commanded, his voice rough with his own approaching climax. “Come with my cock in your ass, you perfect little slut.”
The permission unleashed something violent inside me. My orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave, my whole body convulsing.
“Master…” I screamed, “sir… oh… please… please, come…”
I felt him thrust deep one final time, burying himself completely as he filled me with his release. The sensation of his hot seed flooding my punished bottom sent me into another climax before the first had even finished.
We stayed frozen like that for a long moment, both of us gasping for breath. When he finally withdrew, I whimpered at the loss, at the strange emptiness. I could feel myself gaping open, unable to close, his seed beginning to leak from my thoroughly used bottom. The humiliation of it should have horrified me. Instead, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction, of rightness.