Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
I stood on trembling legs and shuffled toward the bedroom, my panties still tangled around my knees making each step awkward and humiliating. Behind me, I heard Mike begin clearing the dinner plates, the domestic sound of dishes clinking surreally normal against what was about to happen.
The bedroom felt too bright, too exposed despite the curtains drawn over the windows. I set the plug and lube on the pristine white comforter with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. Then I bent down and worked my panties the rest of the way off, stepping out of them and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor.
My bra came off, the clasp seeming to take forever to unhook. When I finally got it free, I dropped it on top of my panties and stood there completely naked, my arms wrapped around myself.
From the other room, I could hear Mike running water in the sink. The sound of him washing dishes—actually washing dishes like this was a normal date, like he hadn’t just made me swallow his cum and wasn’t about to make me prepare my own ass for violation—made my head spin. The contrast was too much. His gentleness in conversation, his warmth when he praised me, his careful instruction… and then this. After the spanking. After the face-fucking. Now this.
He’s taking care of you, some traitorous part of my brain whispered. He fed you. He’s cleaning up. He’s teaching you what you need.
CHAPTER 14
Laura
I moved to the end of the bed on autopilot, my body following his instructions even as my mind screamed in protest. I bent forward, pressing my palms flat against the mattress, and spread my knees apart the way he’d commanded.
The position made me acutely aware of my bottom cheeks—still burning from the spanking, the welts from the orderly’s cane overlaid with Mike’s handprints.
It also made me conscious of how the posture Mike had commanded left those punished cheeks spread. I could feel the air there, moving over the tight little button of my bottom hole.
A wave of dizziness washed through me, making the room tilt. I gripped the mattress harder, my fingers digging into the comforter as I tried to steady myself. The position forced my back to arch naturally, my bottom rising higher, and I felt suddenly, acutely aware of how exposed I was. How naughty the pose looked. How deliberate it seemed, like I was offering myself for exactly what Mike intended to do to me.
The realization sent new heat flooding through my body, centered behind the terrible, tight line that closed the furrow of my labia.
I reached for the tube of lubricant with a trembling hand, fumbling with the cap. It took three tries to get it open, my fingers slippery with nervous sweat. When I finally managed it, I squeezed a generous amount onto my right hand, watching the clear gel pool in my palm.
This was it. This was really happening. I was about to touch myself there, prepare myself there, for ‘training’ by a man I’d met this afternoon.
With a sob that came from somewhere deep in my chest—shame and need twisted together so tightly I couldn’t separate them—I reached my right hand between my legs. My fingers found the tight pucker of my anus, and the moment I made contact, I cried out.
The sensitivity was shocking. Overwhelming. As if the seal on my pussy had somehow redirected all sensation to this forbidden place, making every nerve ending there hyperaware. Even the lightest touch sent sparks of sensation radiating outward, and I felt my whole body shudder.
“Oh, god,” I whimpered, my left hand pressing harder against the bed for support.
I bent further, arched deeper, presenting myself more completely. The motion was instinctive, my body knowing what it needed even as my mind rebelled. My finger circled the tight opening, spreading the lube, and I felt myself clench against the touch.
“No… no… no…” The words fell from my lips in a whispered litany as I pressed my fingertip against the resistance. The muscle fought back, refusing entry, and I had to take a shaky breath and try to relax.
“You look so, so beautiful, Laura, you naughty little slut.”
Mike’s voice came from the doorway, and I froze. I hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t known he was watching. My face blazed like a bonfire as I realized he’d seen everything—the way I’d arched my back, the desperate sob, my finger working between my legs.
“Keep going,” he said, his voice warm with approval. “Don’t stop on my account.”
My finger pushed past the ring of muscle, and I gasped at the intrusion. The sensation was strange—not quite pain, but an intense pressure that made my sealed pussy throb with renewed need. I worked my finger deeper, the lube making the glide easier, and felt my hips rock forward involuntarily.