Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
He bends down so his hot breath is right in my ear again, his brogue suddenly coming on deep. “So I tell ya what, love. I’m gonna fuck every hole of yours now, so ya know yur mine, just as much as Anna is. And yur gonna come when I fuck your sweet little cunny. And then when I fuck your face. Because now you’ve promised you’ll swallow my cock like a good little slut, well that’s a ticket I’m gonna cash in. And then I’m gonna take yur asshole, because I’m a dirty motherfucker and I want it. So I’m gonna take it. Do ya understand me, slut?”
“As long as you make it hurt, Sir.”
“That’s the right answer, Pet.”
He lets go of my nipple and then spanks me. Hard.
I shudder from the flood of endorphins at him releasing my nipple, but am too distracted by him spanking me to come.
He spanks me once, and then twice.
Then over and over. Unforgiving smacks that have me quickly dancing on my tiptoes again and writhing in my bonds. Especially when he gets me in a spot the paddle already landed. Goddamn, that smarts!
My fingers clench around the ropes binding my wrists as my pussy clenches, so fucking wet. I always suspected it could be like this.
I dreamt about this for years after he was gone. Whenever my father locked me in the closet, or in the box beneath my bed, or in the big barrel out back when it was raining. I’d think of Donny hurting me for my sins and it would make me come in the dark. Just thinking of what his dark touch might feel like. I always thought it meant I was even more fucked up.
But it turns out I’m fucked up just like him.
“Please, Sir,” I beg desperately. Because he said I could only come when he fucked my cunt and my face and my ass, and he’s not doing any of those things right now.
He’s just spanking me like the bad girl I am, making me dance where he’s got me bound up so tight.
“Please. Please—” I whine.
And then I hear the barest noise of a zipper and then the slightest pressure of his chest at my back, his long, thick cock slipping between my spread legs.
He thrusts in my cunt—hard.
The girl has had him all weekend but this is the first time I—
I gasp out in such absolute exhilaration and singing freedom and dark pleasure as I clench down all my inner muscles on his cock.
Mine.
He pulls out far too quickly, but then he shoves back in, rougher still.
But not rough enough. He’s forgotten who he’s fucking. Just because it’s the same body, doesn’t mean it’s the same girl.
“Harder!” I shout. “Fuck me like you mean it, Sir, or don’t bother at all,” I call from where I’m bent over the chair.
His next thrust comes at me like a battering ram, and I feel him everywhere as he pounds into me. The chair I’m tied to screeches on the wood of the dining room floor as he sends it forwards several inches with the force of his pounding.
“Yes,” I cry, holding on to the ropes for dear life as I brace for his next thrust.
It’s just as brutal and I love him giving into the monster he always keeps so carefully tucked away inside him. With me he can give into it completely.
“I’m not crying yet, Sir,” I taunt.
“You little bitch. You fucking slut!”
I hear the snick of a knife being released and then feel the taut line of the rope binding my left ankle free, then my right. Sir is soon quickly slicing the ropes binding my wrists, too. He doesn’t bother undoing the knots, he just grabs me by my waist and bears me down to the floor.
“I wish you were wearing mascara,” he mutters.
“It won’t matter, Sir.” I grin up at him as he climbs on top of me, two knees bracing my shoulders down as he sits on me, positioning his huge cock at my lips. “You won’t get me to cr—”
My words are cut off by him shoving his cock past my lips. In spite of what I know he wants, he tries to take it easy at first. Just pushing his bulbous head past my lips before retreating again.
But that’s not what either of us are here for.
He’s got me pretty severely pinned with his body—careful not to actually lean his weight down in his crouch on top of me—but when he next bobs his cock past my lips, I can lift up just enough to swallow his shaft down my throat.
I look him straight in the eye as I do it and he gasps, likely from how good what I’m doing to him feels.
I wish I had a hand free to squeeze his balls, but that’s not the point of this, is it?