Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
The depth of his voice, and the huskiness of it… the hint of brutality in his words… the way his lordship Baron Gravamir sounded almost animalistic, as if the pleasure to be found in my mouth had overcome his elegant, cultured, civilized manner entirely and turned him into a wild creature… together with Mistress Franla’s unceasing attention to my pussy, her thumb pushing in to my bottom hole, where she had cleaned me for my first night in my master’s bed… it all made me cry out around the thrusting shaft of the baron’s cock. I breathed roughly through my nose, and every time I thought I would gag on the penis, on its too-long, too-thick bulk, my master pulled it back and my mistress’s fingers somehow made it feel good to undergo this servile ordeal.
Distantly my mind tried to understand what his lordship had said, what he had meant about tasting his seed. Somewhere in the faroff depths or heights to which my reason had fled, I put it all together at last: how fucking planted a seed, how babies were made. I knew enough about human anatomy to understand even that of the places my master had coarsely promised to fuck me, only my pussy would give the chance of making a baby. To make me taste his seed would mean also to ensure he did not put a baby in my belly. I could hardly have said why, since I had only just discovered these secrets, but I knew that this made my kneeling service more shameful.
This thought, to the horror of the distant rational part of me, seemed to multiply the need and the pleasure that came from my mistress’ hand between my legs, her fingers on my clit and her thumb in my bottom hole. My whole body jerked and shuddered, the thrill of fiery ecstasy echoed back somehow from the way his lordship cruelly held my head so very still.
For his pleasure. Without regard for my comfort.
I felt the release starting to come over me. I squeezed my bottom—something in me thought, or maybe pretended to think, that if I did that, reawakening the pain from the terrible spanking I had gotten over my master’s knee, it might distract me. That perhaps it would lessen the pleasure and keep me from coming, because I didn’t want to come. I didn’t want to show them… I didn’t want them to see… this Vionian nobleman whom I had never seen before today, when he had purchased me like an object… and the mistress of concubines he had put in charge of my training…
They must not see, the voice in my head told me, that I could feel good while performing this humiliating kneeling service. So I gripped the little globes of my rear end more tightly, spread them even more widely and uncomfortably open. Surely I could never feel the overwhelming, reason-stealing pleasure of a climax if I reminded my body that the man who was fucking my face had punished me so harshly, just for failing to look at him when he told me to.
Instead the sensation brought on by my lewd holding of my hot, spanked bottom that way brought the release even closer. I had the double shame of knowing that I couldn’t stop myself from coming and that I had lied to myself, or drastically overestimated the strength of my will. My pleasure belonged to my master much too completely, and that idea on its own sent a terrible jolt of need through my nervous system.
“She’s going to come, My Lord,” I heard Mistress Franla say, as if from a faraway star. “I always find that a climax while a pleasure girl licks and kisses her master’s scrotum produces very satisfactory results.”
The baron didn’t slow the rhythm of his thrusting at all, at first.
“A fine idea,” he said in a low murmur, his voice even deeper and huskier with the pleasure I knew came from my mouth, and it seemed, the sight of me on my knees before him with my panties around my thighs and my hands on my bottom cheeks. My hips bucked again just at the idea that my master took such enjoyment from abasing me, and the delight Mistress Franla bestowed with her knowing fingers spread out through my limbs and made them tremble. My climax loomed before me. I moaned desperately around the invading bulk of my master’s hardness, much too big for my little mouth.
Abruptly, he changed his grip on my head. His left hand pulled away while the fingers of his right twined more deeply into my hair. Then, roughly, he took my mouth off his cock, and he began to pump the rigid shaft again in his left hand. I felt him bend my head again, turning it to the side and lowering it so that I got my first close-up view of the little pouch beneath my master’s penis—the scrotum, I understood from my mistress’ words.