Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
The picture of it rose, hot and red, in my mind’s eye: the literal domination of the tall older man, fully clothed but for the lewdest, most arrogant part of his body, stooping like a beast of prey to ravage the prostrate girl he had stripped to her slutty lingerie and then punished until her rear end glowed like a sunrise.
I had no choice. That was the important thing. Not the way his masterful hands had turned me into a quivering, aching creature in danger of begging her boss to fuck her needy cunt until she couldn’t walk comfortably for a week. The wand didn’t matter—it just sort of symbolized Joseph Alden’s actual power over me, didn’t it?
I clenched hard as I felt something new, not a fingertip but something broader and slightly more yielding, rubbing up and down, along the whole length of my private cleft, inside the delicate, sensitive petals there, up to the tingling nub that made my hips jerk backwards.
Hardness. Joseph Alden’s hardness. His manhood. His…
His cock. His huge, rigid cock. The thing he’s going to put inside you because he likes to fuck. He likes to fuck slutty, submissive young women with his long, thick penis.
The idea that I hadn’t seen it, or touched it… that I didn’t even get to see the cock that my boss would thrust into my desperately aching cunt… roiled inside me. I had a flash of memory, about Jake—the way I had blushed the first time I had stolen a look at his rigid manhood, the way I had stroked it so hesitantly and felt so naughty doing it. I should have thanked Mr. Alden, a prudish voice tried to say in my mind, for not making me touch his thing, or see it.
But to have my face lowered to the carpet, with his big, restraining hand on my back to keep it there—it felt as if I hadn’t yet earned the privilege of seeing or touching his manhood. Mr. Alden would decide when I would become more intimate and knowledgeable about the private parts of his body, and how he would make me serve him.
Just as he had decided when he would touch my bottom, paddle me, press his fingers into me. How he would command that my private parts be bared for him. How he would lodge the head of the rigid shaft inside the entrance to the hot, wet sheath he had gotten ready for his use.
“Oh, this little cunt is going to be so nice and tight,” he said, his voice a little hoarse with what I knew must be the pleasure my private part gave to his manhood. My cheeks blazed with heat. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Ingrid Vogel.”
I bit my lip hard, but the sob of pleasure mixed with abject shame came out of my chest nevertheless. We… How could he say it that way? How could this be anything like fun for me?
I felt him move the tip of his cock out just a little. My hips jerked backwards uncontrollably and I whimpered as my vagina tried despite my mortification to impale me on my boss’ rigid penis. He pushed it in again, just a little further this time, and the noise that came from my throat seemed the mirror image of the last one: a soft cry of gratitude for Mr. Alden’s mercy.
Fun? Could that word have anything to do with this feeling? It seemed so much greater, so much more essential. And how could it be ‘fun’ for me to learn how desperately I needed to yield myself to my boss’ every humiliating whim? To know that I would have to be bare, down there, from now on, because he liked a girl’s cunt to be smooth for him? To know that from now on I would serve as Mr. Alden’s submissive fuck toy, to be used, panties down, however and whenever he wanted to have ‘fun’ with my helpless body?
And yet as I felt his hands move to encircle my waist over the naughty garter belt, and I understood that he intended to keep my private part just where he liked it, for thrusting in at full length, I felt a little glimmer of an unexpected, even shocking joy. It hardly seemed possible, but a splinter of me, somewhere in the far distance, could see what Mr. Alden meant about fun: it… well, it seemed kind of like a game, almost.
I felt my eyes go wide at the thought… and then even wider because the huge, stiff shaft of my new boss’ erection thrust hard into my needy vagina. I tried to rise, even to get away, because the pleasure crashed through my body so violently that it felt like pain, too—like Mr. Alden fucking me actually represented the culmination of my punishment rather than a reward for accepting it, or even a simple sequel to it, decreed by him because he had gotten aroused in paddling me, and had the right to satisfy his lust in his new secretary’s cunt.