Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Good girl,” Master Hendryk said, beginning to pull his cock from my anus at last. “That was a lovely ass-fuck, especially for your first time.”
I bit my lip hard, hoping that maybe the pain from my teeth would distract me from the unwelcome swelling of pride inside my chest, a pride that came along with a greater measure of abject humiliation.
My master’s cock left me, and my little ring closed at last. My cheeks heated again as I felt his seed trickle from the tiny hole he had deflowered.
“Lovely, definitely,” I heard Miss Charlotte say. “Congratulations, Mr. Vanderbruggen. And I’m sure Renee’s bottom will only grow more pleasing on your cock with daily use back there.”
CHAPTER 8
Renee
Master Hendryk’s house had seven bedrooms. I remembered him telling me that, in response to my mumbled, exhausted question the previous night, as I woke up. He had put me to bed in what must be the biggest one of all, in what could only be his own enormous bed. As I came gradually out of sleep the morning after the auction, I could literally feel the splendor of my new surroundings in the crisp but indescribably soft blue sheets and the impossibly puffy down comforter in which I found myself nestled.
We had gotten there via private jet and luxury limo, in the small hours of the morning. I hadn’t had the mental energy to contemplate my darkened surroundings as, very much to my surprise, Master Hendryk had literally put me to bed. He had actually picked me up and laid me atop that vast, soft mattress, then covered me up with the top sheet and the comforter.
He had stooped and kissed me gently on my mouth. I had made a small questioning noise, I remembered now, which I supposed I had meant as an expression of surprise: my owner hadn’t, after all, taken me straight to a dungeon and chained me to the wall of a cell with room enough only for a straw pallet and a chamber pot.
I had kissed him back, sleepily, my lips yielding readily to his dominant mouth, his firmly probing tongue. I hadn’t even wondered why my brutal master had decided to display such affection, or why I responded to it as if I liked him, rather than stood in abject terror of him. Then I had fallen so fast asleep that waking felt like it happened only a microsecond later.
The sun, clearly high in the sky, cast a thin but intense ray between the heavy curtains and onto the bed. I felt like an utterly new person, just because of the surroundings and the dislocation of such heavy slumber. That feeling of newness—into which my mind and heart mixed what seemed like equal measures of elation and anxiety—overwhelmed me even before I became aware enough of my body to sense all the uncomfortable effects of Master Hendryk’s rough use of me the night before.
He had obviously gotten out of bed some time ago, but the other side of the huge bed had its covers rumpled, so he must have slept next to me. That very thought made my forehead crease and sent a little shiver through me, again a confusing alloy of happiness and fear. For a moment I stared up at the sumptuous coffered ceiling with its gilded molding and tried to unpack my emotions. Hadn’t I experienced this—the luxury, the splendor, the soreness down there from a master’s enjoyment—when I woke up at the Institute only a few weeks before? Hadn’t Master G prepared me to serve the man who had purchased me in a similar setting, just like this one?
To my dismay, my bladder told me I couldn’t spend the time necessary to puzzle these questions out here in bed. Master Hendryk had made me hydrate fully on the journey from the Institute on the west coast to his home in the Midwest, and as my body roused itself the effect made itself urgently known—so urgently that I had to bite my lip and roll over to see if I could find the way to the bathroom.
I saw it, thankfully, but the action of rolling brought a little sob of discomfort to my lips. The sensation of soreness everywhere down there nearly made me let go a little of my desperately clenching hold on what felt like an ocean of pee.
I scrambled out of the bed and started to walk on gingerly feet toward the bathroom door. I could see gleaming red and white tile and shiny chrome fixtures. Like the bed, the sheets, the cloud-like comforter, it looked like the contents of the huge bathroom had come from a royal palace.
Every step felt like a little bit of renewed punishment. The bruises on my bottom from the cane and the soreness of my pussy and my anus seemed to shoot reminders of Master Hendryk’s discipline and pleasure each time my foot came down on the soft gray carpet and I shifted my weight forward. The effort of tensing my pelvic muscles over and over to keep my pee inside me brought a new and slightly different wave of discomfort as I covered the ground between me and blessed release.