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He tugs on the chain, wrapping it around his fist. His teeth are gritted, his eyes lit with need. I can see his cock straining at his pants. He’s turned the fuck on. And so am I.
“You don’t need to make this worse for yourself this time,” he says. “What I’m going to do to you will push the limits you understand for yourself. I am going to make you regret your disobedience.”
He turns me around with my back against his stomach and spreads my legs, his hand sliding down between my breasts, over my stomach, the hard, muscular lines of his strong arm rippling as his fingers curl around my mound and squeeze. He plays with me over my panties. They are a silky blend, and he pulls them tighter over my clit and slit and his fingers run down over those same delicate places. He’s not rough like Jason, but he is an absolute master of the female form. He begins lightly, but still completely in control. He rubs the tips of his fingers in a circle around my clit until I am moaning and squirming my hips. He keeps the collar tight, not tight enough to cut breath from my lungs, but tight enough to let me know I am owned. This collar is more than a dirty sex toy. It is a symbol of his control and of my submission, however reluctant.
My first climax is small and could almost be denied, but the second is more intense, and the third follows quickly. I am soaking my underwear, until he decides to pull it to the side, and I finally feel the heat of his fingers against my bare pussy. I am slick with my juices, and I am swollen and desperate. I don’t know if I want him to stop, or if I want him to finally fuck me.
He doesn’t stop.
And he doesn’t fuck me.
Before I know it, I am screaming in orgasm, time and time again as his fingers rub, slap, tease and pinch my sensitive clit and lips until I come, and come again. Orgasm has become something quite other than pleasure. It has become a punishment, one I know I deserve.
“Tell me what you want,” he growls in my ear. I am whimpering and barely coherent. I am writhing, and when I look down at myself I see his hand and the soft, wet, spread lips of my sex, the dirty bud of my clit. I see my need. I smell it. And I need him to give me what he has made me crave so desperately.
“I need you to fuck me, please.”
I have never asked so nicely before. I have never been made so very polite.
He lifts me up under my arms and pushes me up onto my knees, and then over again, face down, ass up. The most animal position you can be fucked in. He makes me wait, wet and spanked. Punished, and pleasured. He makes me feel the full force of my submission to him, how much I want to please him even though I don’t really know how.
Then, finally, I feel his cock. I need him so badly. I need his dick more than I can say. I’ve been craving this and fearing this from the moment we first met. The sensation of bare, hot flesh against my pussy makes me clench with anticipation. Is he going to do it? I want him to do it. I…
“Ohh!” I let out a long sigh as he gives me what I’ve been craving, his thick cock deep inside me in one long, possessive stroke.
He has me on hands and knees, the collar working against my throat, my ass arched up toward his plunging cock. I’m soaked. I can feel it, and I can hear it. My wet shame is clear to everyone in earshot. And there is someone in earshot. Someone coming over to us now. Someone with dark eyes and a huge…
Jason cups my chin in his hand and looks deep into my eyes as Soren punishes my pussy with rough, disciplinary thrusts. There’s no escaping this sexual shame. His eye contact alone intensifies the moment, making me feel great waves of pleasure rushing through me. Is it pleasure, though? Or is it just the sheer energy of being caught between two sexy military beasts, of fucking and being fucked, of being at their absolute mercy and use.
Jason kneels up before me and frees his cock from his pants. His cock is as I remember it, heavy and thick and imposing. The kind of rod designed to not just fuck a girl but teach her a lesson.
He pushes inside my mouth, that cock sliding over my tongue with a possessive and yes, punishing stroke. He fills my mouth completely, his hand still under my jaw, keeping me in place, giving me exactly what I deserve.
