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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He tapped, and I whimpered… then he pushed, and I cried out.

The cry, though, came in the form of words that I hadn’t intended to say, as far as I knew.

“She…” I said, my voice sounding a sort of panting wail. I took a breath. Master Hendryk twisted the plug a little. “She… she… said something… weird… Candy… numbers…”

The logical part of my mind always seemed to exist in a sort of cocoon, hanging in space, when my sexual submission had reached this level of detachment from my body. I knew somewhere inside that cocoon that my words didn’t make any sense. Somehow I could also tell that that rational segment of my brain had decided I had to tell my master this. Whatever had happened with Candy a moment—or maybe a minute? more?—before Master Hendryk had returned to the bedroom seemed important, somewhere in my consciousness. My mind just didn’t have access to the ability to think completely clearly at the moment, with my fingers spreading my butt-cheeks and my back arching desperately to try to ease the terribly narrow path into which my owner drove the third ridge of the awful black plug.

“Shh,” Master Hendryk said. “Just concentrate on taking your punishment, Renee. You were naughty, and now you’re learning what happens to girls who speak sharply to their bed sisters.”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about!” Candy added, in a perfect Barbie-tries-to-help-Ken kind of voice.

Master Hendryk pressed a little harder. I let out a wrenching sob.

I had to say it, but my body wanted so urgently just to draw the remainder of my mental capacity into subspace, just to help that part of me let go and fall back into the me-less me of my submissive, discipline, valued, cared-for body. If Candy hadn’t repeated that she had no idea what I meant about the numbers I probably would have let it go, so soothing did my master’s voice seem as he told me to accept his harsh dominance.

But it bothered me greatly that this artificial girl had more or less accused me of lying. Master Hendryk might just take it as subspace rambling, and therefore fail to punish me on Candy’s accusation, but I did have some angel in me despite the way he had started to erode my pristine self-image. I didn’t lie to my master, whether that sacred term referred to kindly Master G or brutal Master Hendryk.

“She said all these numbers and letters!” I cried out, my words muffled by the comforter. My master stopped pushing on the base of the plug. “And I think she said transmitting.”

I had absolutely no idea how long the silence that followed my words lasted, but it probably didn’t occupy more than a second. I knew it had happened, though, and I clung to that—the idea that Master Hendryk must have at least considered whether to take what I had said seriously.

In the moment following that, though, I felt him push the plug again, with quickly building pressure, and I heard his voice, speaking in a tone both soothing and very, very patronizing.

“Shh, my dear. You imagined that, I’m sure. You know Candy has an AI brain, and so you imagined her behaving like a robot from a science fiction movie. Concentrate on submitting to me, now.”

I let out a sob into the comforter. My owner’s words—the arrogance in his voice, really, more than anything in the words’ meaning—sent a tremor through my pussy. I had told him the thing my brain had decided I needed to tell him, anyway… I had done whatever angelic duty my mind and heart had demanded of me and my master had declined to find it important.

I could let go: Master Hendryk must be right, because he must always be right, the way he was right about my resistance and right about leaving me with Candy to think about my needs. My thoughts, if I could even call them that, traveled in circles, like the ones my master made as he turned the horrible punishment device in my bottom, pushing harder with each revolution.

With a wail, and a spasm that seemed to go from my back to my pussy and down my legs all the way to my toes, I took the third ridge. My anus tightened a little, at least on the valley between that ridge and the flat, flared base of the plug that sat firmly between my bottom-cheeks. I had the whole thing inside me. I moaned a naughty girl moan, suspended between the agony of being so full in that forbidden place and the terrible arousal this harsh discipline seemed to bring elsewhere.

My backside moved in a lewd, mortifying way, bouncing on its own without any input from my brain. I whimpered as I felt my back arch, understanding that my body was trying to show Master Hendryk my bare, pink, needy pussy, in a desperate hope he might find it pretty enough to touch, to rub, to fuck… to use some way… any way… however he wanted as long as he gave me the tiniest bit of the friction that alone could ease the suffering of my terrible punishment.


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