Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“You’re beginning to understand,” Pierre observed, his hand stroking my back with surprising tenderness. “I can see it in the way your body yields to me now.”
He was right. Even as my mind processed this shattering revelation, my body had softened around him, accepting his invasion more completely. The burning discomfort had transformed into something else—a fullness that felt right, necessary, as if a missing piece had finally slotted into place.
“Your resistance wasn’t to the act itself,” Pierre continued, his voice hypnotic as he began to move inside me again with slow, deliberate strokes. “It was to the truth about yourself that the act reveals.”
A sob tore from my throat as his words stripped away my last illusions. I pressed my face harder into the bedspread, trying to hide from the humiliating truth—but there was nowhere to hide, not with Pierre’s cock claiming my most intimate place, not with his voice speaking directly to my soul.
“I… I need it,” I whispered, the admission barely audible.
Pierre’s hand tightened on my hip. “Louder,” he commanded. “Say it clearly.”
I drew a shuddering breath, gathering what remained of my courage. “I need it,” I repeated, my voice stronger now even amid the tears streaming down my face.
“You may come, Audrey,” Pierre whispered, his voice so thick with arousal that for a moment, in my whirling mind, I thought he had changed, like in a fairytale—into an ogre, or a bear.
That terrifying, thrilling little fantasy, together with my sponsor’s permission to find my release, unleashed something primal within me. My entire body convulsed as the climax tore through me with devastating force. It wasn’t like any orgasm I’d experienced before—this felt deeper, more all-encompassing, radiating outward from where Pierre’s cock filled my anus to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I screamed into the bedspread, my back arching almost painfully as seemingly unstoppable pleasure crashed through me.
“That’s it,” Pierre growled, his thrusts becoming more forceful as my body clenched around him. “Take your pleasure with my cock in your ass.”
I couldn’t form words, couldn’t think, could only feel as my consciousness narrowed to the point where our bodies joined. My pussy contracted rhythmically around nothing, desperate for fullness even as my bottom was stretched to its limit. The emptiness there only heightened the sensation of Pierre’s possession of my other entrance, making the orgasm spiral higher, stronger, until I thought I might pass out from the intensity.
Behind me, Pierre’s rhythm faltered. His fingers dug into my hips hard enough to bruise as he drove himself deep one final time. I felt his cock pulse inside me, felt the hot rush of his seed filling my virgin passage. He groaned my name—not ‘little whore’ or ‘ma petite’ but ‘Audrey’—the sound reverent and possessive all at once.
We remained frozen like that for long moments, both of us panting, our bodies joined in the most intimate way possible. I felt utterly claimed, thoroughly used, and yet somehow more complete than I had ever been. At least in that moment the contradictions no longer troubled me as they once had. I understood, if only for a few seconds, that my submission to Pierre wasn’t a betrayal of my independence, but an expression of a deeper truth about myself.
Slowly, carefully, Pierre withdrew from my body. The sensation made me whimper—partly from discomfort as my stretched muscles protested, partly from loss as the fullness I had come to crave disappeared. I felt his seed leaking from me, a hot trickle that should have mortified me but instead felt like a brand of ownership, a physical reminder that I now belonged to him in every possible way.
“Don’t move,” Pierre instructed gently. I heard him leave the bed, his footsteps padding away across the carpet. The sound of water running in the bathroom reached my ears, and soon he returned with a warm, damp cloth.
With unexpected tenderness, he cleaned between my legs and between my buttocks, wiping away the evidence of our coupling. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he tended to my well-used body. I remained motionless, too exhausted and overwhelmed to do more than accept his care.
When he finished, Pierre helped me to stand on shaky legs. My entire body felt different—used, marked, changed. The girl who let her sponsor walk her on trembling legs into the bathroom, toward the shower stall that I now understood was that roomy for precisely this reason… she had become someone different from the Audrey Campbell of a day ago. She had come with a man’s penis in her bottom: shameless, shameful… definitely new.
Pierre helped me into the shower, his hands steadying my quivering frame. The warm water cascaded over us both, soothing my aching muscles and washing away the rest of the physical evidence of what we’d just done. He reached for the soap, working it into a lather between his hands before applying it to my skin with gentle, careful strokes.