Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I had. That fact glowed in the cold space where I hovered, undeniable and lewd. No one had put the words in my mouth. No one had imagined this for me before I did. I had come here and offered up my own degradation as if some part of me had always understood that being used this way would reveal me to myself more completely than any decency ever had.
That was when Gowry came.
I knew it first from the change in his face, the tightening there, the concentration turning inward, then from the way his hands clamped harder on my hips and his thrusts grew deep and final. He gave a low rough groan, drove into me, and held there, and I felt the hot pulsing fullness of him in my cunt. The sensation of being filled that way while Porter still occupied my ass and held my exhausted body in place sent one last involuntary spasm through me. I whimpered.
Gowry stayed buried for a moment, breathing hard, looking down at me as if to commit the sight to memory. I think he said something, perhaps to Porter, perhaps about me, but I couldn’t catch it fully through the ringing in my ears and the strange floating stillness in my mind.
Then he withdrew. The emptiness in my pussy felt shocking. Cold almost, though of course it wasn’t cold at all. My body clenched pointlessly after him. I watched that happen from very far away too, with detached embarrassment for the poor greedy creature I evidently was.
Porter did not let me sink. His arm tightened around my middle.
“Stay with me,” he said, and then he held me firmly in place and began to thrust upward, hard and deep, so that I sobbed in helpless discomfort.
I blinked. The office sharpened by degrees, just enough that I could feel my sponsor’s hands on my hips, the sweat cooling on my skin, the soreness beginning to declare itself beneath the pleasure. My bottom, full of Porter’s hardness, still burned where the cane had striped it. My thighs trembled uncontrollably.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, though the words sounded slurred.
Gowry stepped back and adjusted himself with no visible shame at all, while I remained spread and impaled and barely coherent, waiting for my sponsor to come in my anus. That contrast might have mortified me more, if I had had enough of myself back to be properly mortified.
Porter’s cock thrust in and out. I wailed my submission to his utter dominance over my body’s most intimate place. The rhythm stuttered, and my sponsor growled a wordless command that my mind understood without any need for translation: Take it, you little ass whore.
I felt his hot seed spurt into me, into the dark, wrong place, and somehow I had enough remaining shame to blush at the sensation.
“Good girl,” Porter murmured, as his hands gripped me even tighter, as if to make sure I didn’t try to deprive him of even the slightest bit of the pleasure he found deep in my anus. “Such a good girl.”
EPILOGUE
Alex
The day the decisive vote finally came up for the assistive tech subsidy bill, Porter and I watched from his home office. I was naked, of course; Porter had told me to take off my dress as soon as I had arrived in his penthouse. Then he, seated in his big leather armchair, had pulled me onto his lap as the roll call began.
His hand went between my legs, where it seemed to make its way so very naturally now. I bit my lip as my sponsor’s fingertips tried the smoothness there, the bareness from my weekly wax.
“Such an innocent little slut,” he murmured in my ear. “I think this pretty cunt should be full of cock, though, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I whimpered in full agreement.
It was very difficult to concentrate on the votes as the screen showed the well of the Senate and the numbers kept rising. Porter had the kindness to seat me on his manhood in front of him, still facing the screen, to ride him with his hands fondling my breasts as I worked my pussy up and down. Math, however, felt very challenging in that position. I tried to count anyway.
“Fifty-eight,” I whispered, though I wasn’t at all sure anymore whether I had seen the board correctly or only wanted it to be true.
Porter’s hand tightened on my breast, thumb brushing my nipple into a harder point. “Try again.”
I made a helpless little sound. “Sir, that’s not fair.”
His low chuckle against my ear sent heat all through me. “No? And yet you keep moving.”
I did. God, I did. His cock felt so solid and inevitable inside me, and every rise and fall of my hips made the leather chair creak faintly beneath us. On the screen senators still crossed the floor in little clusters of dark suits and pale papers while the numbers climbed with maddening slowness.