Her Shameful Education Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
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And then I came, utterly defeated by Master Hendryk’s rough skill, the sheer strength of his body dominating mine. I came harder than I ever had, even the first time Master G had fucked me in the foyer of the Institute’s mansion.

I felt like my whole body had turned into liquid gold. I felt my muscles straining against the straps, and the physical tension in them, as well as the knowledge that I couldn’t escape the massive cock that pounded into me, the tuxedo-clad lap that compressed the cruel cane welts… it made the orgasm go on and on, my vagina clenching over and over on my owner’s thrusting cock as he fucked me with all the brutality I had ever imagined a man could show to his sexual servant.

I cried out over and over, every thrust bringing another overwhelming surge of pleasure. Each time my master slammed his hips into my backside felt like another stroke of his ultimate, his most important implement of discipline. His clothed lap, his huge cock, seemed to remind me how hard and fast he had whipped me, and how easily he might whip me again.

The image on the screen changed to a close-up of my tearstained face, and that intensified my climax even more, since I looked so perfect a picture of reluctant submission, of shameful, unwanted pleasure… my brow deeply creased, my mouth in a woeful pout of penitence too late. My eyes seemed to speak of my master’s rough justice, of his rightful conquering and my rebellion righteously put down before the victor took his pleasure.

Abruptly he held himself all the way inside me, the scratchy fabric of his pants pressed firmly against my terribly sore bottom. I let out a whimper as my climax began to ebb away. The picture on the screen changed again, to show my owner in a medium shot, in full possession of me by means of his gripping hands, his stance above and behind me like a rider, a trainer… looking down at me in cruel satisfaction. His expression seemed stern, his eyes hard and resolute.

“You’re just as tight as Candy, my dear,” he finally said. “They’ve taught you how to take care of yourself, haven’t they?”

I sobbed at this degradation, though I couldn’t suppress a surge of wicked pride at my master’s praise. The comparison to his AI concubine, his sexbot, sent a wave of heat to my cheeks, and whoever sat at the controls of the video screens didn’t miss the chance: my face came back onto the screen, revealing the rosiness Master Hendryk had brought with his humiliating words.

He let go of my hair, and I hung my head again, unable to look at the screen, or at Miss Charlotte, or above all at Master G. I knew, for there couldn’t be the slightest doubt of it given Master G’s expertise, that my training master had seen my brutal new owner had just forced more pleasure on me than he ever had.

My blush got hotter at the thought of meeting the eyes of the man who had introduced me to the fulfillment, joy, and peace that only came with my sexual submission. I knew I would have no choice but to acknowledge that another man—a man who seemed so much less skillful and less caring than Master G—could take me deeper into that submission than Master G could.

Master Hendryk pulled the little globes of my caned bottom apart, very roughly, so that I cried out. My head went up, my back arching with the flash of pain, but I kept my eyes tightly closed.

I felt his fingers dip into my aching vagina, gathering the wetness there. I sobbed, and lowered my head again in abject shame as he smeared the warm, slippery essence of my own need on my virgin anus. Slowly but very firmly Master Hendryk began to push what felt like it must be two fingers into my smallest place. I let out another sob, this one deeper, racking my whole body so that I strained against the belt holding me down atop the horse.

“Get those eyes up, Renee,” he growled. “You’re going to watch this on the screen.”

A murmur of approval came from the audience; the moment had become so still that I knew for certain I had heard those indistinct whispers. Well-heeled men and women had said to one another, Yes, make her watch her master deflower her ass. Just what I would have done. I obeyed his command: I raised my head and opened my eyes, and found I was looking straight into the answering gaze of Master G.

His eyes had narrowed, and at first I felt a wave of grief because I thought I read disapproval on his face, but an instant later I realized that I must have projected that onto him. Master G’s mouth had curved upward into a smile: his expression, far from critical or disappointed, was one of happiness, even of pride.


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