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)
The humiliation washed over me in waves, but I climbed onto the bed anyway, my body obeying even as my mind reeled. He would spank me—whip me even. Wouldn’t he? If I didn’t do the obscene things he wanted?
I swung one leg over the cushion and lowered myself down, gasping as the ridge pressed directly against my seal. The pressure was immediate and intense, and the plug in my bottom shifted, making me acutely aware of both sensations at once.
“That’s it,” Mike murmured, his hand stroking my thigh. “Now rock your hips. Hump it like the desperate little slut you are.”
I whimpered but started to move, my hips rolling forward and back, the ridge of the cushion creating pressure on my clit, through the seal, and sending sparks of sensation through my core. The plug shifted with each movement, and I found myself squeezing my muscles the way he’d taught me, creating even more pressure, more fullness.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Keep going. I want to watch you work for it.”
I moved faster, one hand moving to my breasts to play with my nipples, my whole body focused on the building sensation. The combination of the cushion against my sealed pussy and the plug in my bottom was overwhelming, and I could feel myself getting close, so close—
“Stop,” Mike commanded.
I froze, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My whole body trembled, suspended on the edge of release. Mike’s hand moved to my hip, steadying me, and then I felt his other hand slide around behind me. His fingers found the base of the plug, and he began to work it slowly, twisting it, pulling it partway out before pushing it back in. The sensation was overwhelming—the fullness, the stretch, the constant awareness of being opened there.
“Please,” I whimpered, my hips trying to rock forward again on instinct.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm. “I want to see how ready you are for the big one.”
My eyes flew open. I watched over my shoulder as he withdrew the medium plug completely, leaving me feeling suddenly, achingly empty. He set it aside on the nightstand and reached for something else—the large plug. The huge, terrifying one that I’d been dreading since the first night.
“Mike—sir—I don’t think I can—”
“Shh,” he soothed, his hand stroking my lower back. “I’m just going to play with your adorable little hole. Get you used to the idea.”
He squeezed more lube onto his fingers and began massaging the little ring of my anus, circling and pressing, making me gasp. Then I felt the tapered tip of the large plug press against me, and my whole body went rigid.
“Relax,” he murmured. “Just feel it. I’m not going to push it all the way in yet.”
He pressed the tip inside, just barely breaching the circle of muscle, and I cried out. It was so much bigger than the medium one. The stretch was immediate and intense, bordering on pain. He held it there for a moment, letting me adjust, then withdrew it completely.
“Ride the cushion again,” he commanded. “Nice and slow.”
I obeyed, my hips rolling forward, the ridge pressing against my sealed pussy. The emptiness in my bottom felt strange now, after being filled for so long. Then I felt the plug again, pressing, stretching, making me whimper as he worked just the tip in and out.
“Squeeze for me,” he said. “Show me how you can clench around it.”
I did, my core muscles flexing, and the sensation of squeezing around even just the tip of the huge plug while grinding against the cushion nearly sent me over the edge. I gasped, my movements becoming more desperate.
“Stop,” Mike said again, and I froze, tears of frustration streaming down my face.
He withdrew the plug and set it aside, then his fingers were there again, massaging, teasing. This pattern continued for what felt like hours—he’d let me ride the cushion until I was close, then stop me and play with my bottom, sometimes with his fingers, sometimes pressing the large plug partway in, never quite filling me but keeping me constantly aware, constantly aching.
I had almost forgotten that the taboo scene was unfolding on board a private jet over the Pacific Ocean, and then a little bump and the unmistakable feeling of dropping fifty or a hundred feet added the exhilaration of momentary weightlessness to the helpless pleasure. I cried out, coming terribly close to climax, hearing the rushing sound from the jet engines, remembering that I had become the property of a billionaire who was taking me somewhere amazing to enjoy me, deflower me, fuck all my holes with his huge, rigid manhood.
Finally, I was allowed to dismount. The cushion was slick with my need and the thought of Elena having to clean it—oh, my god, would she clean the plugs, too?—and put it away again brought a new wave of heat to my cheeks.