Sold at Auction – Bound for Service Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
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“Come for me,” Marcus demanded, his grip tightening as he slammed into me with renewed fervor. “Show me how much you need this.”

With a final, brutal thrust, he sent me spiraling into orgasm, my muscles contracting around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me. He didn’t stop, riding out my climax with relentless determination, his own release following moments later with a guttural growl.

As the aftershocks subsided, he stayed buried deep inside me, his breath ragged in my ear. He straightened, slowly, and I felt him soften inside me and then slip out. I collapsed onto the bed, hardly noticing as Marcus refastened the harness around my waist. The awful plug, re-lubed, slipped much more easily into my anus.

The sensation seemed so forbidden and yet so intimate that I made up my mind in an instant: I would tell him, whatever Malleus would think. I readied myself to speak, as soon as Marcus took the gag from my mouth.

Then, through the haze of my pleasure and my discomfort, I heard the same beep I had heard before. He had reactivated the camera. My heart sank; the chance to reveal my true identity to him slipped away like sand through my fingers.

Still, I seemed to float somewhere far away, where it didn’t matter. He pulled the gag from my mouth and replaced it on the nightstand. I hardly noticed as he touched my shoulder.

“You may sleep late tomorrow like a good little slut,” he told me. His voice sounded troubled: my heart went out to him without compunction, despite the brutal fucking he had just given my virgin anus. I knew his dilemma, but he didn’t know mine. It helped me to feel I had an ally in the chateau even if I couldn’t communicate with him, but Marcus had no such support.

I looked over my shoulder as he turned and exited the bedroom, the heavy door closing behind him with a resounding thud. The lock clicked into place, sealing me in my private prison of conflicting emotions and desires.

I lay there, my body still humming with the aftershocks of the intense encounter. The sensation of the butt plug remained, both uncomfortable and arousing, a constant reminder of my submissive state. My mind whirled, replaying every moment, every touch, every word.

I couldn’t resist. I flicked my wrist, spoofing the camera, creating a brief, desperate window of privacy. The tiny act of rebellion sent a thrill through me. I turned onto my side and with a hot blush, I carefully placed the gag back in my mouth, ensuring that any sounds I made wouldn’t be overheard.

My fingers found their way to my pussy, already slick with arousal. I began to stroke myself, my other hand moving to the butt plug, gently teasing it in and out. The sensations built rapidly, my body responding eagerly to my touch. Each movement brought me closer to the edge, my thoughts consumed by the memories of Marcus’ dominant presence.

As I neared climax, I remembered the way he had taken me, the loss of my innocence under his skilled hands. The mix of pleasure and pain had pushed me to new heights, revealing parts of myself I hadn’t known. The thought that I must continue to pretend to be an innocent virgin made my heart beat faster, made me feel much naughtier under my own lascivious touch. Even as I explored these dark, submissive desires, and tried to manipulate Marcus for my mission, I must do my best to seem modest and pure.

Briseis. Passive but essential. Observing.

The wave of my orgasm crashed over me, my muscles tightening around my fingers and the plug, my body trembling with release. My mind spun with thoughts of the bed girl in the Iliad, the ultimate observer, the fuck toy who wielded real power in her own way. I wondered if she had played with herself, finished herself off after her mighty warrior’s cock had left her with too much need between her legs.

I removed the gag. I unspoofed the camera. I settled down at last, exhaustion overtaking me. As I drifted off, with the satisfaction in my pussy and the corresponding languor in my limbs overcoming all my anxiety and even the discomfort of the harness, my thoughts grew jumbled.

They all went together, it seemed like, to combine into something larger. Greater even. But I couldn’t seem to put them into proper order, and consciousness fled as I was still trying to line the ideas up into something meaningful.

Briseis… observer… fuck toy… real power… Marcus… Marcus… Marcus.

CHAPTER 12

Marcus

Delacroix arrived back at the chateau late Friday night. Already in my sleeping sweats and just about to turn in, I got a text-alert from the chauffeur half an hour before his limo pulled into the portico. I struggled into my suit and tried to make my appearance presentable before hurrying to the foyer. As my evil magnate boss emerged from the limo door, I blinked back my exhaustion.


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