“Do you think you can help it now?” she says sharply.
I hold myself stock-still as she drags her claws up my thighs. I breathe hard, shaking with the effort.
She grazes my cock with a nail, and my hips jump again. The punishment is swift and certain. The pain makes my limbs buzz.
Mor laughs cruelly and buries her nose in my hair, breathing deep. “Oh, I cansmellhow much you love this. The pain turns you on, doesn’t it?” She digs her nails into my thighs, and I gasp. She takes another deep breath. “Yes,it does…Mmmm… Let’s see what else you like… We know you like this.” She strokes her nails through my hair. “What about this?”
Mor’s finger presses into my mouth, and I moan, closing around her and sucking hard.
She laughs in my ear, low and breathy. “Oh, youlovethat. I’m going to have so much fun breaking you…”
I whimper.
With her other hand, she circles the collar and squeezes.
My eyes flutter back.
“Do you like wearing a collar? Do you like beingowned?”
I moan and try to nod around the hands at my throat and my mouth.
“Good, because until this heat is done, you belongto me.”
I’m breathing fast, whimpering, working my tongue under her finger.
“You really want to work that tongue, don’t you? I can think of a much better use for you…”
Morgan withdraws, then steps around in front of me, pulling me up off the chair by the ring of my collar. She takes my hand and places it against the waistband of her sweats.
“Pull them down,” she commands, giving the collar a downward tug.
I obey, slipping the waistband over her hips and pulling it down until I’m kneeling.
She’s not wearing anything underneath.
Her scent hits me, thick and smoky, and drool puddles in my mouth.
Morgan steps out of her sweatpants, then pulls me back up and out of the kitchen to the sitting area next to it. She drapes back against a low mid-century leather chair and tugs me between her legs.
I swallow hard to keep from drooling on her as I kneel on the lush black carpet.
“What are you waiting for?” she says.
It’s a test. “Your permission,” I breathe.
“Verygood boy,” she purrs.
I swallow again.
“Open your mouth. Keep it open.”
I know better than to protest. As soon as my mouth is open, thick drool runs off my outstretched tongue.
“This chair is vintage,” Morgan purrs. “And now you’re ruining it.”
I whimper, even more drool pouring from my tongue, but I keep my mouth open.
“Soobedient,” Mogan purrs. “I think you’ve earned a treat.”
