Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
There is a hole in the front of the desk due to the fact that what used to be a solid front is now two sliding panels that snap together with a cutout in the middle that is just a bit larger than my neck, but definitely not so large my head could pull through. My head is secured through a hole in the front underside of his desk, my neck supported by padded undersides. If anybody walks in here right now, they will see me here, my face exposed. It will look strange. It will be deeply shameful.
“Good girl,” Aiden praises, taking his seat behind me.
At first he does nothing. I hear some shuffling of papers, and then some light typing. I wonder how long he is going to have me kneeling here, if that’s part of the punishment. He is seriously so fucking sick.
Just as I am starting to get so impatient I could scream, Aiden reaches under his desk and fingers my pussy casually, using me like a fidget toy.
I hate that it feels good. I hate that his casual dominance makes my stomach fizz and my pussy get wet. I hate that my hips are performing that humping contortion that comes with wanting to be fucked.
Aiden leaves no room for any thoughts. He forces me to be in my body, in the moment. He controls my mind by controlling my flesh.
“Such a good girl,” he says, getting up from his chair.
He walks around the desk, kneels down, and unzips his fly, letting his cock come out of his pants. He feeds it into my mouth, and after a gentle thrust or two over my tongue, I find myself with my face being fucked.
He caresses my face as he uses me, making sounds that aren’t quite words, but nevertheless feel like sweet compliments. His thick cock slides over my tongue back and forth, making my jaw ache after a few minutes.
Almost as if understanding, he grips me under my chin and holds me in place while he ruts my mouth faster and harder.
His semen splashes over my lips, my tongue, and some goes over the bridge of my nose.
“You can wear that,” he says. “It would do you good to remember what it feels like to have your face painted in cum.”
He goes back to work then, and I am left to kneel in the desk stockade, my face covered in his cum. When he decides I have earned it, he slides a small vibrator into my pussy and straps it in place around my ass and thighs so I am filled and pleasured while he works.
“That should keep your pussy nice and warm and ready for me,” he comments, patting my ass gently.
He leaves me like that for an hour at least. I want to come so badly, but I can’t because there’s no clit stimulation, just the shameful position, and the fullness and the vibration. I know that complaining will do me no good. I just have to hope he takes pity on me and fucks me.
“Please,” I whimper finally.
“Please what, pet?”
“Will you fuck me, sir?”
He pauses for a minute, and I am sure he is going to say no. Then I hear him get up, and I feel him open the sliding portions of the desk, freeing me to climb through on hands and knees.
“Lie down on your front,” he says. “On the floor.”
I do as I am told and he covers me with his much larger body, spreading my legs and proceeding to fuck me prone on his office floor, my face still covered in his now dried semen as he removes the vibrator and fills the aching space with long, firm thrusts of his cock.
I whimper and cry and thank him like the captive I am. I am so relieved to be getting release, for my clit to be grinding into the carpet every time his thick, dominant cock sinks inside me.
He fucks me to an extremely competent orgasm, making me feel like the sex we just had was another demonstration of his control. He didn’t need to fuck me. He had already used my mouth and satisfied himself. The rutting on the floor was just for me, a series of physical demands placed on my body to force it into an orgasm that leaves me curled up naked, wearing his seed on both ends of my body.
He gets up immediately, standing over me tall and apparently impassive in his suit.
I look up at him, feeling filled and drained at the same time. I try to appeal to his better nature, even though I know he doesn’t have one, and even though I am still feeling internal contractions from that orgasm that came on the heels of an hour of internal stimulation. He is wearing me out. Breaking me down.