Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
The tube of lube clicked open with a soft pop, the sound, absurdly, seeming almost deafening in the near silence of the bathroom. I could hear another woman at the sink, and I suddenly felt certain she had heard me open the tube, that she knew exactly what the sound was.
My face hot, I squeezed a generous amount of the tube’s contents onto my fingers, the slick substance cool against my skin. As I applied it to the plug, my fingers glided over its smooth surface, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.
Do it, you little slut, I urged the girl in the stall. Put it in your sweet little asshole. I felt my eyes widen as I heard that inner voice, my watching self’s filthy words.
I looked up and found to my distress that I could see my reflection staring back at me from the small mirror inside the stall, wide-eyed and flushed. With one final deep breath, I prepared myself for the task ahead, the weight of Joseph’s command pressing down on me, inescapably shameful and irresistibly thrilling.
I squatted a little, even that simple change in posture bringing a wave of warmth to my cheeks. I reached under my skirt. The discovery, with my hand, of my lack of underwear, the enforced smoothness of my pussy and bottom crack, seemed dismayingly new, as if I somehow had forgotten how deeply I had already submitted to Joseph down there.
The very act of putting my hand there because my master had commanded it felt degrading, a surrender of control so complete it left me breathless all on its own.
You love it, slut, the distant voice said. Within the degradation lay an arousal so potent it made me whimper.
The cool metal of the plug, now slick with lube, touched my most private place, the wrinkly little bud, the smallest, most shameful opening on my body. The sensation was electrifying, a sharp contrast between the chill of the metal and the heat of my sensitive skin.
Another whimper escaped my lips, a rising sound, curious, like a desperate question. The boundary between humiliation and arousal blurred, and the two melded into something that made my heart pound even harder.
I took a shuddering breath, my fingers trembling as I began to press the cold metal tip of the plug against the tense, tight entrance to my bottom. I felt my face shape itself into a woeful pout at the intensity of the sensation, the feeling of intrusion that made me gasp.
I pushed, biting my lip against the simultaneous blossoming of need and discomfort. Each millimeter felt like an eternity, my body tensing with every bit of inward movement.
“Ah—” A little whine escaped my lips, high-pitched and desperate, as the plug slowly inched its way inside me. My lubed fingertips slipped a little on the jeweled base. My muscles clenched around the cool metal, fighting the unnatural penetration even as a perverse surge of arousal coursed through me.
Keep going, you little whore, the distant voice whispered, the softness of the demand an intimate tease.
The fullness in my virgin anus felt overwhelming, a stretching sensation that bordered on painful but held an undeniable excitement, a secret pleasure. Every nerve in my body seemed to have gone on high alert as the plug filled me in a way that left no room for any thought not devoted to its invading presence.
I felt the last millimeter disappear into me. I felt the muscles of my tiny hole close around the post that connected the tulip shape to the bejeweled disc. My legs quivered with the effort of holding myself steady. The plug settled snugly in place, and I already knew it as a constant reminder, from this moment on, of my submission. My mind raced ahead, unable to stop imagining what it would feel like to have Joseph’s cock there instead. The thought alone made my breath hitch, and I bit my lip to stifle another moan.
I gathered my wits as best as I could, standing up straight despite the awkwardness of the foreign object lodged within me. I almost forgot my purse, and my steps were hesitant. The presence of the plug altered my movements, forced me to walk with a new kind of awareness.
Think about what it means, the cruel voice said, once again trying to impersonate Joseph. Each step seemed like a monumental effort. I fought back a sob, determined not to let the sensations overwhelm me. The journey back to the table felt endless as I couldn’t help but obey. Every stride reminded me of what Joseph had told me he wanted. What he planned to do to me, when he got me back to his apartment.
When I finally reached the table, I still couldn’t look at Joseph. I tried to sit down as gracefully as possible, my eyes looking straight down at the still empty table, the purity of the snow-white tablecloth. The weight of the plug in my bottom made it humiliatingly difficult, my thighs trembling as I lowered myself onto the chair. The cushioned wood pressed against my bottom, amplifying the sensation of fullness, making it impossible to forget.