Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I begged them,” I gasped, my voice growing stronger as shame and need battled within me. “I begged the colonel to fuck me, begged to kiss his… his cock. Mrs. Quinst made me tell her how wet I was getting.”
My hips had begun moving in earnest now, riding the saddle with increasing desperation as the words poured out of me. I could see the effect my story was having on the others—Trellama was gripping her saddle’s edges, her knuckles straining as she fought her own responses.
“My… my governor…” I continued breathlessly, “you know, the device between my legs? They used it to make me… to force me to climax while the colonel was… while he was in my bottom and I was… oh, powers…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence as a small orgasm rippled through me, my vagina clenching hard around the artificial shaft as I relived the memory of that devastating night. The shame of climaxing while confessing my degradation to my classmates only seemed to intensify the sensation.
“As you can see and feel, ladies,” Mistress Orela murmured, her eyes rising from her handheld to meet each of ours in turn, “the correlation between memory and physical response is quite remarkable.”
When I finally finished my tale, our intimidating teacher turned to Reb.
“Miss Reb, you’re next. Tell us about your evening.”
Reb’s pale face went even whiter, if that were possible. Her small frame shook as she gripped the edges of her saddle, the artificial shaft buried inside her making her breathing shallow and uneven.
“Please, Mistress,” she whispered, tears already streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t… it was too…”
“I fear you have no choice, my dear,” Mistress Orela replied firmly, “unless you wish to feel the strap, which I know is not the case. Begin.”
Reb’s voice came out in broken sobs as she started to speak. “They… my Guardian and Mistress… they weren’t like the Colonel and Mrs. Quinst. They were… rougher.”
She paused, her hips moving involuntarily against the saddle as the memories surfaced. “They tied me to their bed as soon as we arrived. My wrists and ankles, spread out completely. I couldn’t move at all.”
I felt my own breathing quicken as I imagined sweet, fragile Reb bound and helpless. Around me, the other students were equally transfixed, their own bodies responding to her words.
“My Guardian didn’t wait,” Reb continued, her voice growing stronger even as tears continued to fall. “He made me ask for his… his hardness… and then he just… he took me immediately. Over and over. And when he was done, his Mistress used her fingers and her mouth on me until I screamed.”
The confession was pouring out of her now, as if a dam had burst. “They… I guess they asked permission, but they didn’t prepare me gently. They just… used me. All night. I lost count of how many times they made me come.”
Her hips were moving more deliberately now, riding the saddle as the memories overwhelmed her. “But the worst part,” she gasped, “the most shameful part… was that I needed it. I needed them to take control completely, to not give me any choice at all. When they finally untied me this morning, I felt… empty.”
The raw honesty in her voice sent a shiver through all of us. Even Mistress Orela seemed momentarily affected by the girl’s vulnerability.
“Thank you for your honesty, Miss Reb,” she said softly. “Your Guardian couple understood exactly what you required. Sometimes the gentlest souls need the firmest guidance.”
She turned to Morandra, whose scholarly composure had completely crumbled during Reb’s confession. “Miss Morandra, please share your experience.”
The dark-skinned woman straightened slightly, trying to regain some of her professorial dignity even as the thick shaft kept her spread and visibly, shamefully controlled. Her hands gripped the leather edges of her saddle, knuckles straining as she fought to maintain composure.
“My Guardian and Mistress took a very different approach,” Morandra began, her cultured voice trembling slightly. “They were… patient. Gentle. They spent more than an hour simply talking to me, asking me questions about my desires, my fears.”
She paused, her breathing becoming more labored as she shifted against the artificial intrusion. “They made me admit things I’d never said aloud. Made me confess that I wanted to be mastered, that all my academic achievements were just… just ways of avoiding what I really needed.”
Her hips began moving in small, involuntary circles as the memories took hold. “When I finally broke down and begged them to take control, my Guardian held me down on their bed while his Mistress… oh, powers… she used her mouth on me for what felt like hours. I came so many times I lost count.”
Morandra’s scholarly composure cracked entirely as she continued. “Then they switched positions. She held me down while he… first my cunny, so slow and deep, making me look into his eyes while he claimed me. Then he took my… my bottom. And I thanked them for it. I actually thanked them.”