Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I felt myself tighten against the pressure, my whole backside tensing to resist the inward movement of Cal’s invading digit.
“This will only hurt if you try to keep me out, Grace,” he said, raising his voice just a little. “It’s a lesson in submitting to the man in charge of you. If you don’t submit, my thumb is going into your butthole anyway, but it will be painful. If you do submit, though, you’ll start to learn what it means to give yourself to a man, the way you need to.”
I felt my face pucker into a mask of shame and woe. I could feel somehow in the involuntary movements of my brow and my nose how thoroughly conflicted I must look. At least Cal couldn’t see that expression—I took a tiny bit of comfort from that.
Him not seeing my face, though, didn’t make it any easier to deal with the conflict in my mind and my heart and above all my body. My hips jerked and my whole backside squirmed as I tried to keep pulling the tiny ring of my anus closed even as another part of me tried to make me push instead.
I had thought I had already experienced the maximum possible embarrassment, last night over the arm of Jake’s easy chair. Having Cal hold my most intimate places in his strong, skillful hand, though, seemed to make the fires of shame rise higher than my skin could even bear without literal flames licking along its surface—which was what it felt like as I pictured what he must be seeing: the lewd, rhythmic movements of my bottom and my thighs that despite everything I tried couldn’t do anything but appear to him to display my yielding and my submission.
Because they do display that, said an unwelcome but insistent voice in my mind. A gorgeous, good-natured guy took down your panties to teach you a lesson. He’s not even spanking you. All he’s asking…
I cried out, because Cal had started to force his way into my asshole with the moist ball of his thumb. I tightened even more as the pain shot through my lower body. Then, as quickly as the sensation had come, the pressure stopped.
“See, darlin’?” Cal asked, in the same slightly stern tone of voice he had used the moment before. “Let me in.”
The fingers up front, their tips on the hood of my desperately needy clit, gave a little rub, and to my mortification that was all it took. I let out a whining sob, and I arched my back and pushed in the most humiliating possible way. Cal’s thumb entered me, penetrating my bottom hole a full inch.
I gasped at the sensation, and I started to pant between parted lips because I simply hadn’t anticipated what it would feel like to have my anus invaded that way, then held open on a man’s thumb. To my surprise, it didn’t hurt at all: it felt good, though in a terribly shameful way, like the naughtiest, most wrong thing a girl could allow a man to do to her. Part of me thought, wildly, that I should receive a terrible whipping over the arm of Jake’s chair, simply because I had my suitor’s thumb in my ass.
“Good girl,” he said. “That’s it.”
I kept thinking I would get used to it: the strange, warm pride in my chest that brought an answering heat to my face—and also a dismaying, confusing echo down below. Cal reinforced that raging conflict, too, as if he were training a pet; he accompanied the little movements of his thumb in my anus with answering motion from his fingertips. Finally he gave my clit the friction I had so desperately longed for, and demonstrated just how much skill he had in giving this ambiguous kind of lesson.
I cried out and writhed over his knee. Each additional bit of tension in my muscles as he held me firmly in place with my arms bent behind me only seemed to add to the waves of pleasure and need crashing through my body. I struggled against his grip much more to feel how he could restrain me so easily than I did in any hope of breaking free.
“Oh… God…” I sobbed. “Sir… sir…”
I heard myself say it. I felt the word in my mouth, and it added to the shame, and to the heat, so greatly that my climax seemed to flow directly from it—from my following Cal’s instruction and calling him by his dominant title. My suitor, approved by my foster father to teach me about my pussy and my bottom… to train me to give him pleasure.
As I began to come, I felt suspended between Cal’s hands: the one on my back with my wrists in its grasp, holding me down while the other fondled me in the lewdest, naughtiest way between my legs and my bottom cheeks. The pleasure exploded outward from my pussy to seize my whole body, and it took away every bit of my control over my thoughts, so that I pictured myself on my knees in front of Cal. I pictured myself nuzzling the front of his jeans… I heard myself begging him the way Shelly had begged Jake, to let me take out his beautiful penis. My suitor had started to train me, and what else would my training be for than to make me ready to serve his rigid cock?