Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
He pulled out a chair from the table and sat down facing her. He watched with amusement as she positioned herself somewhat awkwardly on her hands and knees, her cute little ass upraised. She gave him another beseeching look, to which he responded with a raised eyebrow.
She refocused on her bowl and lowered her head. As he watched her, he reached into his shorts and stroked his shaft, which, despite his recent ejaculation, had hardened to steel once more.
Her first efforts weren’t very successful as she tried to stick her whole face into the shallow bowl. She looked pretty funny with milk dripping off her nose and dribbling down her chin, but eventually she got the hang of it. Slurping and sucking, she managed to get at least some of the cereal into her mouth, though she was making quite a mess in the process. By the time she was done, her face and chest were filmed with milk, a droplet suspended from one nipple.
He shook his head as he regarded her. “What a messy puppy you are. I’ll have to hose you off. But first”—he got to his feet and tugged down his shorts, his cock springing free—“I’m going to give you a creamy dessert.”
Reaching for the back of her head, he pulled her forward and shoved his shaft into her mouth. Gripping a handful of her hair, he pumped in and out of her throat, not even minding that she was getting milk on his crotch.
Christ, he was turned on. The power rush of forcing this young woman to act like a dog, the knowledge that she was his toy to play with, use or discard, and no one in the world knew what he’d done, was like nothing he’d ever experienced. She was all his. He could let loose with every dark fantasy, every nasty kink that he wanted, and she didn’t have a damn thing to say about it.
Her mouth was cold from the milk, and it felt good against his hot, throbbing dick. All too soon, his balls tightened, the tingling sensation moving up and along his shaft as he thrust in and out of her mouth. It felt so fucking good, he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Sure enough, a moment later, like the cork shooting off a bottle of shaken champagne, he spurted down her throat with a guttural cry.
He let her go and fell back into his chair. Pleasant exhaustion moved through him, along with a nice endorphin kick. He didn’t even reprimand the little cunt when she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
He glanced out the high window above the sink. It was dark out, and a look at his watch told him it was already after eight. Hauling himself to his feet, he un-looped the leash from the chair leg.
“Crawl over to the sink. You’re a mess,” he said, tugging her along. He turned on the faucet and reached for the spray nozzle. Turning back to her, he sprayed her face and chest with water, sluicing the milky film and bits of Cheerios from her skin as she spluttered and gasped.
Satisfied, he replaced the sprayer, turned off the water and reached for a dish towel. He rubbed it over her hair, face and chest and then dropped it on the puddle of milky water pooling on the floor. He’d dress her in a French maid outfit tomorrow and make her clean it up.
For now, though, he was done with her. What he needed was a nice rare steak and a glass of beer, and then a good night’s rest. Eventually, once she was better trained, he might bring her up into his bed. But for now, he’d chain her to the basement cot.
He picked up her leash again and led her, still on her hands and knees, to the basement door. “Time for bed. Puppy play is over for now. You can walk down the stairs,” he added magnanimously as he pulled her upright.
Once in the basement, he unclipped her leash and hung it on a hook on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He slipped the choke collar over her head and hung it with the leash. “You need to use the bathroom before bed?”
“Yes, please,” Callie replied, looking around as if a toilet was going to magically appear.
“You can piss in the sink. If you need to take a dump, you’re shit out of luck,” he added with a grin.
“In the sink?” she repeated, dismay on her face.
He shrugged, not even reprimanding her for speaking without permission. “Take it or leave it. You can always piss in the cot again, if that floats your boat.”
Again those two spots of red appeared high on her cheeks, which he was coming to understand meant she was furious. But, wisely, the cunt kept her mouth shut. She didn’t move for several seconds, as if weighing her options. Then, with a glance at him, she moved toward the freestanding sink. She hoisted herself awkwardly over it.