Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
His words made me whimper with humiliation and desire. Each thrust pushed the plug deeper into my bottom, creating a fullness I’d never imagined my body could withstand. The double sensation—his cock filling my pussy while the plug stretched my anus—left me gasping, my fingers clutching desperately at the bedspread. I could feel how Pierre was training my body, making me crave his cock in my bottom no matter how uncomfortable and shameful it would be.
“See how wet you are for me?” Pierre murmured, his hands holding my hips tightly as he continued his steady rhythm, keeping my pussy just where he wanted for his deep thrusts. “You know what you need… your unconscious mind, your nervous system… your lovely little whore’s body.”
I buried my face deeper into the bedspread, trying to hide from the truth of his words. My pussy clenched around him, shamefully eager, while my stretched anus throbbed with anticipation of what was to come. I bit my lip hard, focusing on the pain to distract myself from the building pleasure. I couldn’t come—wouldn’t come—not when it would prove him right about my shameful desires.
After what felt like an eternity of exquisite torture, Pierre withdrew from my pussy. I felt empty and bereft for a moment, until his fingers found the base of the plug. He twisted it gently, making me moan, before slowly beginning to pull it out.
“Breathe,” he instructed as the widest part stretched my opening. “Push out slightly—yes, like that.”
With a final tug, the plug slipped free, leaving me feeling strangely hollow. I had become so accustomed to its presence throughout the day that its absence felt almost like a loss. My anus fluttered, adjusting to the sudden emptiness, already missing the fullness.
I heard the snap of the lubricant cap opening, then felt Pierre’s slick finger circling my sensitized entrance. He pressed inside easily, my body already trained by the plug’s daylong presence.
“So ready for my cock,” he murmured approvingly. “Your tight little hole opens for me so beautifully now.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching me further. Despite the preparation, it hurt—but the pain seemed to have a special quality, something that connected with other parts of my body, of my nervous system, to make me perversely want more of it.
I felt his fingers retreat, then the cool sensation of more lubricant being applied directly to my sensitive opening. Pierre worked it in methodically, making sure I was thoroughly prepared for what was to come. Again, as on the previous night, his touch surprised me with its gentleness given the crude purpose, his fingers working the slick gel deep inside me as if tending carefully to my comfort.
“Are you absolutely certain,” he asked, his voice a silky caress against my heated skin, “that you don’t want my cock in this tight little ass, Audrey?”
I did my best to keep my composure as I replied, though my voice wavered with the effort. “I know I have to let you,” I whispered, my face burning against the bedspread. “I consent to it. But… but… no, I don’t want it.”
The admission felt like surrender and defiance all at once—acknowledging his power over me while still maintaining some small shred of resistance. My body might respond to his touch, might even crave the forbidden fullness he promised, but I could at least pretend that my mind remained my own.
Pierre made a sound that might have been amusement or approval—I couldn’t tell which. I heard the snap of the lubricant cap again, and imagined him coating his rigid manhood with the slippery gel. The mattress shifted as he repositioned himself behind me.
My breath caught as I felt the blunt head of his cock press against my thoroughly prepared anus. Even with all the attempts to ready myself—the plug I’d worn all day, Pierre’s careful fingers stretching me—the pressure still felt overwhelming. His cock was so much larger than the plug had been, so much more insistent in its demand for entry.
“Relax,” Pierre murmured, one hand stroking my lower back soothingly. “Remember to breathe.”
His other hand reached underneath me, finding my aching clit with unerring precision. His fingers began to circle it gently, sending jolts of pleasure through my core even as he maintained the steady pressure against the tiny ring of my bottom hole.
I sobbed at the conflict raging inside me—the fear and shame of this most intimate invasion warring with the undeniable pleasure his skilled fingers were creating between my legs. My body seemed to be dissolving into pure sensation, caught between reluctance and desperate need.
“Oh, God,” I moaned, my resistance crumbling as his fingers worked their magic on my sensitive bud. “Do it… please, Monsieur.”
The words had barely left my lips when Pierre increased the pressure against my resistant opening. There was a moment of burning stretch as the head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle, making me cry out—in pain or pleasure, I couldn’t tell anymore. The sensations had blurred together into something beyond categorization.