Page 137 of A Perfect SEAL


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Owen lays the tip of his cock against her lower teeth, pulsing slightly there before pushing further in. Her pale pink lips stretch around his girth. When she begins to lean too far backward, the aunties catch her by the shoulders.

“Accept this flesh,” they murmur in low, practiced tones. These are our secret words, our whispered ritual.

“Accept this flesh,” they say again, “so that you may know the majesty of a man.”

Owen pulses again, his hips moving slightly, beginning that slow piston. He looks at me briefly, calculating his thrusts to make sure he's not too insistent with her, not too rough.

I shake my head slightly. Not too much. I need him to know that. She's developing nicely. We want her pliable. Not broken.

I see disappointment flash across his features. He never does get what he wants, does he.

“Accept this flesh,” they say again. I see Gina's nostrils flare slightly as her lips close firmly around Owen’s member.

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That's it. That's perfect. She's taken the initiative to submit to him.

He sees it too. With a sad smile, he withdraws, his cock still shiny from her spit. She rocks forward slightly, surprised.

“That's it?” she says. Her disappointment is adorable.

“Just a bit more,” the auntie says.

She loosens Gina's elbows as she lifts her back to standing. The other aunties come and rearrange her to face me. Gina blinks again and again. Her features flash. Her lips part as she breathes heavily. The aunties jostle her body back and forth, shaking out her arms to resume circulation there. Gina is transfixed as she stares at me, her chest heaving. She's ready now. I know she is.

The aunties take the front of her dress and sweep it to the side, then lay her down on the dais, facing away from me. Two aunties open her by the knees. Gina doesn't even look afraid anymore. She understands. She knows, even if she doesn't really know with words. She knows without words.

I shouldn't look, but I do. Where the aunties have opened her, that dark patch. That pink spreading. Her sex unfurls before me, opening sweetly like a mouth just gasping in surprise. A swipe of pale pink split by the deeper pink secret inside. Dripping, just a little. Fresh.

“Accept this flower,” the aunties whisper.

“Name this flower,” they whisper, as I drop to my knees in front of her. I rest my weight on my hands and arch over her, drawing my body parallel to hers, aiming for her center.

“Obedience,” I say clearly. The word leaps to my tongue as though placed there by someone else. It's a perfect name. Gina nods slightly, her dark curls falling onto the wooden floor behind her head.

“Obedience,” I sigh as I feel warmth grasping at the tip of my cock. It's tight. So tight. Yet welcoming. I push gently, so gently, yet just the weight of me will breach her entrance. She unfolds for me, crumpling like petals. I plunge to the center of this flower, taking its first sweet nectar for myself.

The auntie places the small wooden cross around her neck. Wood reaching for the sky, the celestial pole, held by the horizon of the world. Like a man held by a woman.

She gasps, and for one short second she meets my eyes. Something new is there. Pleasure. She groans then covers her mouth with her trembling hand. I feel her walls convulse around me, quivering in waves of orgasm.

Her eyes get even bigger, then shut tight as her legs wrap around my hips, pulling closer. I have to pull away now. The aunties are getting nervous.

She whispers something I can’t make out. I lean closer to her and put my ear to her mouth. Am I hurting her?

“More,” she pants. “More…”

I can’t give her what she wants — that’s for her Master — but I smile despite myself. It’s done.

She’s ready.

Chapter 60

Angel

As the sun goes down, I rush around our small house, trying to finish my chores. We've only got four rooms, five if you count the bathroom. Mama's room, my room, a living room and a kitchen. That's it. I know a lot of people have a lot more than that, but this is all that we need and wishing for more would be wrong.

Mama spent all day with Agatha and Mary in the reclamation shed, sifting through donated items, looking for things we could keep. It's kind of a funny thing that I bet most people around here don't know. Most of what we have was given to us, not made here or bought with money.

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