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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Marcel’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Putain,” he breathed. “So she’s still got her cherry, but she’s tighter than a virgin?”

Marcus nodded. “Exactly. And because of the closure, it’s going to hurt her. A lot.” His fingers dug into my flesh, and I couldn’t suppress a small whimper. “But Monsieur says she’s such a little whore, she’ll come anyway.”

The guards exchanged looks of mingled excitement and apprehension. A younger guard—I didn’t know his name—spoke up hesitantly. “Won’t that, uh, damage her? If she’s that tight?”

Marcus fixed the young man with a steady gaze.

“I’ll fuck her first,” Marcus announced. “To show you how it’s done without harming Monsieur’s property. And to make sure this little slut is properly humiliated.”

He pulled me towards a low bench in the center of the room. “Put her on her back and hold her legs open,” he ordered. “Marcel, and…” He jerked his chin to the young guard who had shown a surprising and rather touching regard for my health. “You, Charles, so that you can see how I fuck a virgin cunt.”

As the guards advanced towards me, I cast my eyes down to the floor, my whole body burning with mortification. Marcel and Charles picked me up and turned me, then roughly laid me on the leather-upholstered bench. The world whirled around me as they came back into view, standing over me on either side.

I cried out in real fear as they moved to grasp my knees, raising them, spreading me wide, bending me so that when I raised my head and looked down my body, I had an obscene view of my spread pussy. The shameful sight brought a sob to my lips, and I lowered my head as Marcus came into my field of vision. The cool air on my exposed sex made me shiver, and I bit my lip to stifle a whimper as I looked up at my miles.

Marcus’ words echoed in my mind—little whore, slut, cunt. The crude language sent conflicting waves of shame and arousal coursing through me. I knew it was an act, that he was playing a role to keep us both alive. And yet… some primal part of me responded to his dominance, to being treated as nothing more than a fuck toy to be used, much more urgently than my submissive sexuality had responded to Delacroix.

I felt utterly exposed, spread open before these leering men. Their hungry gazes raked over my body, lingering on my breasts, my pussy. Part of me felt desperate to curl up and hide, to protect myself from their lustful stares. But another part of me—the part Malleus had awakened and trained, for Marcus as it seemed to me now—positively reveled in the attention, in being a spectacle for their entertainment.

My nipples hardened into aching points, and I could feel wetness gathering between my thighs. I burned with shame at my body’s betrayal, at how easily I slipped into the role of wanton whore. But I couldn’t deny the need building within me, the desperate ache to be filled.

Marcus positioned himself between my spread legs. I gave an honest, authentic whimper as he lowered his fly and freed his massive cock, his heavy balls.

In the dark of my bedroom, when he had taken my mouth and my anus with his rigid penis before Delacroix could, I hadn’t gotten such a clear, obscene view of it. The sight of my true master’s long, hard manhood, brandished arrogantly in his left hand, made me tremble with a potent mixture of fear and desire.

“Look at how wet the little slut is already,” Marcel sneered, his thick fingers digging into my thigh. “Barely touched her and she’s dripping.”

I flushed hotly, knowing it was true. Despite my fear and shame—no, as embarrassing as it was, because of them—my pussy had gotten slick with arousal.

Marcus ran the head of his cock up and down my slit, coating it in my juices. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my hips jerking involuntarily at the teasing contact.

“Beg for it, whore,” Marcus growled, his voice rough with barely contained lust. “Beg for my cock in your tight little cunt.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please, I need your cock. Please fuck me.”

A chorus of lewd comments and laughter erupted from the other guards. Charles, the young one, looked almost uncomfortable, but his eyes remained fixed on where Marcus’ cock rested against my pussy.

I bit my lip, my breath coming through my nose with little whining, mewling noises as I felt my miles lower the head of his manhood a little, press it gently into the place where I needed him so very badly. I looked up into his eyes, and I saw dominance, brutality.

I remembered him telling me, back in Delacroix’s bedroom, that he wouldn’t be able to look at me the way he wanted. I let out a sob at the sheer hardness of his expression. I had no need to feign the terror and humiliation I felt at the way I would lose my final virginity.


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