Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Think about this, sweetheart,” Mike said, his voice rough as his hand moved faster on his shaft. “I can touch myself whenever I want. I can come whenever I want. But you—” his fingers pressed harder against the plug, making me gasp “—from now on you have to obey my rules about how you touch this luscious body.”
The words sent a jolt of humiliation through me so intense I thought I might actually come just from hearing them. He was right. He had complete freedom over his own body while I had to ask permission to seek relief from this constant aching need, or I would go back over his knee and feel his firm hand on my bare backside. The power imbalance was absolute, and my sealed pussy clenched hard at the thought.
“Come here,” he commanded, his voice husky. “On your knees.”
I scrambled off the bed, my legs shaky as I dropped to my knees in front of him. From this angle, his cock seemed even more imposing, jutting out at eye level as his hand worked the rigid length.
“Kiss it,” he said. “Kiss my cock while I finish.”
My lips trembled as I leaned forward and pressed them against the broad head. The skin was hot and silky, and I felt his shaft twitch at the contact. I kissed him again, then again, my lips moving over the swollen crown while his fist pumped just below.
“Lower,” Mike commanded. “Lick my balls.”
Oh, god. My face blazed even hotter, but I obeyed, ducking my head to find the heavy sac beneath his cock. My tongue darted out, tasting the masculine musk of him, and I heard him grunt above me. I licked again, more confidently this time, my tongue exploring while his hand moved faster on his shaft.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Such a good little cocksucker. Keep licking.”
I whimpered at the crude words but continued, my tongue working over every inch of skin I could reach while he pleasured himself above me. The position made me feel impossibly submissive, impossibly owned, and my pussy throbbed with frustrated need behind its seal.
“I’m going to come on your face,” Mike said, his voice tight. “Stay still.”
He put out his left hand to enforce the command, his fingers twining in my hair. My eyes flew up to meet his, wide with shock and mortification. On my face? But before I could process the command, his hand moved faster, his breathing growing ragged, and then I felt the first hot spurt hit my cheek.
I gasped, flinching slightly, but forcing myself to hold still as he’d commanded. Another pulse landed on my nose, then my other cheek, warm and thick and utterly degrading. Mike stroked himself through the final pulses, and I felt more of his seed land on my chin, my forehead. When he finally finished, his hand gentled in my hair, and I stayed frozen on my knees, hardly daring to breathe. The warm fluid clung to my skin, sliding slowly down my cheeks, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Part of me—a shameful, traitorous part—felt proud. I’d done this to him. I’d made my sponsor climax, gotten him so aroused he’d marked me with his release. The thought sent a confusing rush of satisfaction through my chest even as my face burned with mortification.
But another part of me just felt degraded. Used. His seed was on my face—actually on my face—and I could smell the masculine musk of it, could feel the cooling trails it left on my skin. I wanted to wipe it off, wanted to run to the bathroom and scrub myself clean, but his hand was still in my hair and I didn’t dare move without permission.
“Beautiful,” Mike murmured, and I heard genuine appreciation in his voice. “You look absolutely beautiful like this, sweetheart.”
The praise made my stomach flutter despite everything. Despite the humiliation, despite the degradation, some part of me preened at his words. Some part of me wanted to be beautiful for him, even like this.
His hand released my hair and moved to cup my cheek, his thumb smearing his seed across my skin in a gesture that felt almost tender. “You pleased me very much tonight, Laura.”
The words made warmth bloom in my chest, and I wanted to hate myself for it. For wanting his approval so desperately. For caring whether I’d satisfied him after everything he’d put me through.
“You may clean yourself up now,” Mike said, stepping back and pulling his briefs and pants up with efficient movements. “And when you’re done, come back here. The plug stays in.”
I stood on shaky legs and fled to the bathroom, my face burning. In the mirror, I looked wrecked—my hair a mess, my makeup smeared, and his seed marking my face in thick white streaks. The sight made my stomach clench with fresh mortification, and I grabbed a washcloth with trembling hands.