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)
“You’re going to take all of me,” he continued, his tone both a promise and a threat. “And you’re going to love every second of it.”
I felt the cold lube on his fingers as he spread it over the tiny entrance, preparing me meticulously. His touch was firm yet careful, each movement sending sparks of conflicting emotions through me. Humiliation clashed with helpless need, and I felt myself sinking deeper into an abyss of pure vulnerability.
“Tell me, Ingrid,” he said, his voice now a whisper that seemed to vibrate through my entire being. “Do you want this?”
“Y-yes,” I breathed, my own voice trembling. The admission tasted like surrender, and it thrilled and shamed me in equal measure.
“Good girl,” he praised, and I felt warmth blossom within me despite the embarrassment.
His fingers worked the lube into me, stretching and preparing, each movement deliberate and unyielding. My body trembled, torn between the rawness of the act and the undeniable pleasure it brought. Each touch, each whispered command seemed to pull me further into my submissive role, making me crave his approval even more.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, his words wrapping around me like a caress. “Such a perfect little fuck toy for your master.”
I whimpered softly, the conflicting sensations building to a fever pitch. My muscles tensed and relaxed, caught in the rhythm of his ministrations. His dominance was intoxicating, leaving me helpless and needy, desperate for whatever came next.
“You’re ready for me, Ingrid,” he said, his voice now a dark velvet promise. “This is going to hurt, but that’s what naughty girls get. This is your real punishment for needing the wand today.”
“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Oh… I…” I swallowed hard, my whole body trembling with fear and lust. “Yes, sir.”
As he positioned himself behind me, my heart raced faster, the anticipation almost unbearable. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me, and I felt a strange surge of gratitude amidst the chaos of my emotions. Despite the intensity of the moment, the tummy-churning fear, there was an unexpected comfort in his dominance—a sense of belonging I couldn’t deny.
Then, with a mixture of dread and yearning, I felt him begin to claim me, my body and soul poised on the brink of an experience that would forever change the landscape of my desires.
Joseph’s hands were firm on my hips, his grip over my wrists making me feel both restrained and taken care of. I gasped as he replaced the plug at last with the head of his massive, erect penis, pressing it firmly against my tight little flower. The discomfort mingled with the forbidden arousal, making my body tense and quiver.
“Relax,” Joseph commanded, his tone brooking no disobedience. “Let me in.”
I tried to obey, focusing on my breathing, willing my muscles to relax as he began to push forward. The stretch was intense, almost unbearable, but there was a dark pleasure in the pain. My fingers clenched the comforter beneath me, knuckles white with the effort to remain still.
“That’s it,” he murmured approvingly. “Take me in, Ingrid. All of me.”
His words sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself arching my back, striving to accommodate him despite the burning ache. Each thrust pushed me closer to the edge of my endurance, yet I couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through me, the way my body responded to his dominance.
“Please,” I gasped, unsure of what I was begging for—relief or more of the exquisite torment.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, his voice softer now, a rare note of tenderness. He took his hands from over my wrists to allow it, placing one on my waist and the other on my shoulder. “You have permission.”
A sob of gratitude escaped my lips, and I eagerly complied, my fingers finding their way between my legs. The slickness there was undeniable, a testament to my helpless arousal. As I stroked myself, Joseph’s thrusts grew deeper, more insistent, each one pushing me closer to a frenzied edge.
“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his breath hot against my ear. “Such a good girl for me.”
The combination of his words and the rhythmic pounding of his cock drove me wild. My body shuddered with small climaxes, each one a wave of pleasure that left me trembling and breathless. I clung to the sensations, grateful for the moments of relief amidst the overwhelming intensity.
He increased the urgency of his thrusts, driving into me with a force that bordered on brutal. Yet, within that brutality, there was a strange, twisted care—a recognition of my limits, even as he pushed me beyond them.
My body surrendered completely, each climax a testament to my submission, my new gratitude for the dark pleasure he bestowed upon me. The room spun around us, the outside world forgotten, leaving only the raw, electric connection that bound us together in this tempest of desire and power.