Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I feel him lifting the hem of the dress, which is helped by the presence of a slit that runs up my left leg almost all the way to my hip. This is not a modest garment. It is a filthy, stunning, gorgeous dress, and I bet it is worth more than any car I could afford.
“Reach back and hold your cheeks apart,” he says.
“That won’t work. I can’t reach under my own dress.”
“Then hold this one side open,” he says, tapping my left cheek.
I do that, feeling exposed and vulnerable and of course, ashamed.
A quick series of warm, oily drops land at the center of my anus. That skin is just so damn sensitive, especially after the recent ravaging he has given me. Everything Marcus does seems to enhance my sensitivity, both physically and mentally.
I feel the fabric moving against my ass and upper thighs briefly before the end of the plug presses against my ass.
“Relax,” he says. “I don’t want this to hurt. There’s plenty of time for you to get yourself into trouble tonight. This could be nice, if you let it be.”
I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He’s right. I don’t need to make this any harder on myself. With Marcus, submission is always the answer.
I feel my butt start to stretch as he pushes it in slowly. The tight ring of muscle that usually keeps me closed opens under the gentle but firm onslaught.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, his tone deeply approving. “You can be such a good pet when you want to be.”
I can be, but only in the most superficial of ways. There’s nothing good about me underneath. I can feel myself getting excited, my nipples grazing against the lining of the dress. Marcus pushes the plug home, settling the flared base between my cheeks. I feel the material of the dress clinging to my ass as he slides his hand away and pats my bottom.
“Stand up,” he says. “Look at yourself.”
I look at the two of us in the mirror. I am so much shorter than he is. My head comes up to his shoulder at best. He stands broad and strong behind me, one possessive arm wrapped around my waist. He uses that hand to turn me, the curve of my rear quite defined in this dress. He is perfectly handsome and entirely possessive. We almost look as though we could be in love. Any red carpet could be graced by the pair of us and people would imagine that we were happy. Until they saw my secret.
The tail is silver, much like the dress, and moving with the clenching of my cheeks. God. How embarrassing. This is a garment made for display and humiliation.
“You look perfect,” he says.
He’s right. I do. But there is no amount of beauty that will cover this depravity. If anything, it highlights it. Every time my hips so much as move, the tail sways. I can feel it all the way up inside me.
“Do I really have to wear this?”
I don’t know why I bothered to ask that question. Of course I do. What would be the point of a humiliation ritual if I were not properly humiliated?
“Yes, pet. You wear it well.”
He pats my bottom again, takes me by the hand, and leads me out to the car. I sit beside him in the back, feeling a certain dissociated numbness. Things feel as though they are coming to a head in some intangible way.
Marcus says little on the drive. I don’t bother to try and make conversation. I look out the window at the city sliding by, marveling at how it used to feel so real and so fair and now feels like it’s nothing more than a facade most people live in. They think they’re free, and that they have to follow the same rules as everybody else—at least, more or less.
But the truth is, there’s no real law. There’s just a code that people who are normal live by because they have to. Unless they do crime, of course. Doing crime has never seemed so noble to me before. If I somehow get out of this predicament, one day I am going to do so much fucking crime.
I smile inwardly as I plan what I’d do with my newfound knowledge that nothing really matters. For starters, I’d definitely steal from corporations. Anything that was a chain? That would be my playground of theft crime.
“What are you smiling about, pet?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. I didn’t even realize I had been smiling.
I like the idea of life after Marcus. He can’t keep me on a leash forever. Once the proverbial shit hits the fan, he’s going to be so busy putting out fires, he’s not going to have a chance in hell of finding me again. I’m going to go somewhere else in the world, to one of those cities that nobody really knows the name of. There are so many places in the world nobody really knows about. Even in the US, there are hundreds of cities Americans haven’t heard of. I could go to one of those and not make a name for myself.