Her Shameful Service – Galactic Discipline Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
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“Master!” I cried. “Please… no…”

But he had already started to spank me with the paddle. Holding me firmly around the waist, with my soaking panties a tiny, aching distance away from the knob, he brought the paddle down over and over.

I shook my head, sobbing, as I tried to understand and knew that truly it went beyond any question of logic or comprehension. I would never fully understand, least of all with the fiery agony the slapping leather sent shooting inward from my paddled bottom.

“Please…” I cried. “Please… Master… let me…”

The thought came into my head without reference to what it would feel like, when I obeyed—the very idea of the pleasure the knob could bring seemed to have fled away completely, chased off by the terrible pain of my whipping. At that moment, with his lordship raining down spanks, saying nothing, his face hidden from me by the sheer closeness of his body as he held me, I only wanted to obey him.

I longed desperately to know why—why a girl who still wanted to have an unbroken spirit, whose mistress had just assured her that she could keep that spirit and her master would help… why that girl thought that he was absolutely right to whip her until she screamed in agony, for the slightest disobedience… or for no disobedience at all, but simply to demonstrate that she belonged to him, or even just because he liked whipping her.

“Please… let… let…” I sobbed between my shrieks of agony, as his lordship relentlessly turned my bottom cheeks, left completely bare by the tiny panties, into a blazing inferno.

Abruptly, he stopped paddling me. He moved his left arm, seizing my left hip in his huge hand, while his right hand, with the paddle’s handle still in its grip, took hold of my whipped backside, and pushed me forward until my lace-covered pussy pressed against the knob.

CHAPTER 30

Chalondra

The vibration began the instant the front of my panties made contact with the knob’s smooth surface. My master must have changed something, some setting in the bed, because the buzzing and the pleasure felt much more intense than they had before his arrival. My cry of pain at his grip on my bottom became a cry of helpless, overwhelming need as I felt the device begin to stimulate me down there, more urgently than I had ever experienced before.

Suddenly it seemed as if many things were happening at once—as if the pleasure and the pain had disoriented my mind so thoroughly that the sequence of time itself had ceased to have meaning.

A sort of thump came to my ears from the floor, and I understood that it could only represent my master shrugging his robe off.

His lordship’s right hand moved over my whipped buttocks, two of his fingers hooking into the narrow ribbon that ran between them, to tug it out and aside, stretching it across my right bottom cheek.

I heard myself whimper as I felt how available my master had made me, by pulling away that bit of protection from the places over which he had just so forcefully stated his control and his ownership.

My hips bounced, making me moan and sob, making me spread my knees so that I could feel more of the knob’s wanton vibration.

The head of my master’s cock was there, moving firmly up and down the cleft of my pussy, as if telling me that I must prepare to have it inside me, as deeply and as forcefully as he wished to thrust it.

I gripped the bedpost very hard, looking up to see how my wrists were cuffed and attached to the wood. How my knuckles whitened with the force of that desperate grasp. How I had no choice, bound to my master’s bed, but to serve him and to give him the pleasure for which he had purchased me.

The firm but supple knob at the end of the baron’s penis found the opening to my aching sheath and slid inside. A flash of heat came to my cheeks as I felt just how easily he’d inserted it and brought it up against the barrier of my virginity, thanks to the wanton need between my legs.

“Wetquim,” I whispered, suddenly feeling my spirit rise up inside me and sensing how it had changed and turned itself in a new direction—how it had found an unexpected, naughty way to remain unbroken. Even as I felt the blush in my face get hotter, I felt the pleasure inside my soaking panties grow into a raging fire.

“I’m so wet, Master,” I moaned. I swallowed hard, trying to discover whether I could say the filthy words that had risen to my mouth.

My master put his hands on my hips, stilling me, stopping my desperate bouncing, making me whimper with frustration. He pulled his hardness out a centimeter, and the words came bursting from my chest.


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