The Billionaire’s Wayward Virgin Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
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I had tried that on a couple of similar occasions, when evaluating the possibilities an associate member might present, but I found the various lines distracting at best and confusing at worst. Thankfully, the feed also gave me the option of condensing all of that into a single number they called OA: overall arousal.

Leah’s overall arousal currently stood at eight, out of ten, as she began to rub her closed pussy through her panties. The number, discreetly placed in the upper right corner of my screen, changed briefly to 9, corresponding it seemed to me with a naughty little thrust of her hips and a soft cry of what sounded like desperation that reached me with crystal clarity via the excellent sound system.

I pumped my cock a little harder, enjoying to the fullest the heady feeling I always got when a bed girl in my training followed my shameful orders and found helpless pleasure in her obedience. Leah’s trim legs hovered in the air, her bare feet kicking just a little, in gentle time with the lewd squirming of her bottom as she pleasured herself. I felt a pang of pity for her as the number in the upper right of the screen descended to 8, and then to 7, obviously because the parts of her pussy that stood in such desperate need of her fingertips lay hidden behind the barrier of her sealed outer lips.

Leah’s left hand moved downward, trembling visibly. With my fingertip on my laptop’s trackpad, feeling almost as if I could touch my fuck toy’s needy private parts that way, I zoomed in to watch as she used her own fingertips to rub quickly over the narrow strap that covered the tiny bud of her virginal bottom hole.

A shudder went through her whole body. I heard, on the audio, Leah say something very softly.

“No… no…”

I moved the camera to show her adorable face in close-up. Her cheeks had gone bright red, and she kept whispering the word, telling herself that she didn’t do the degrading thing of her own accord, even as she willingly carried out my dark command.

“No… no… please… sir, no… I don’t…”

I shifted the view again, so that I could see it happening: my rebel, so wonderfully, obviously thinking of me and of what I meant to do tomorrow night, how I would claim her most intimate place with my thrusting hardness… touching herself there through her panties… moving her hips in obscene imitation of a girl with a penis inside her.

“Pull the panties aside, Rebel,” I said, pumping my cock harder and faster. I could have spoken to her over the apartment’s speakers, if I had wanted to. Perhaps I would, one day. Tonight, though it turned me on much more to know I could give silent commands to this amazing, independent and yet deeply submissive, young woman.

Her overall arousal number had jumped to eight again, clearly at the touch of her fingers on her forbidden rear entrance and the thought of the training she must undergo. I watched Leah’s right hand obey the order I had issued, as if she could read my mind from miles away: she pulled the gusset of her naughty panties over, and she ran her fingers down to take hold of the thong’s narrow back to tug it over her right ass cheek.

She gave a little cry as she replaced her left hand’s fingertips, directly on the enticing, wrinkly button of her anus. Her overall arousal rose to nine, and then, to my delight, to ten. Leah moaned. Her right hand rubbed frantically up and down, obviously pressing so hard on her hidden clit that I decided she must be thinking of my hand spanking her there.

At the same time, further down, her middle finger pushed, gently at first, against the sweet little flower I had told her I meant to pluck.

“That’s it, Rebel,” I murmured, feeling the seed begin to seethe in my scrotum and trying to time my climax properly. “Show me where you need the most training.”

Leah’s breathing had become very labored, every exhalation a whimper of shame and need. When the tip of her middle finger pressed into the narrow opening of her adorable pink asshole, she gave a heartrending cry. The 10 in the upper corner of my screen flashed, which meant that Selecta’s algorithm had just measured her arousal as having reached a higher level than it had previously observed from her before.

Then, to my surprise, it went red, and a bell chimed in her bedroom—an alarm I had set when I started watching. Leah’s hands froze. Over the audio feed I heard the apartment tell her, “Pre-orgasm detected. Sponsor Christian G has instructed you not to climax.”

Leah let out a wrenching sob. I moved the camera up so I could see her face, a look of need, frustration, and shame so vividly etched on her eyes, her forehead, her nose, her mouth, that I came instantly, shooting my semen in hot jets onto my belly and thinking of how my rebel had looked with a man’s white seed on her face for the first time.


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