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One of Master Hendryk’s hands gripped my ribcage, the index finger rubbing against my breast and bringing a faint pleasure there. To my distress, I had a pang of guilt about stealing that bit of enjoyment in the midst of what my master meant to serve as a strict punishment—and then, even worse, I felt a little thrill of gratitude for his allowing my captive, owned body to feel even that iota of stimulation. With his other hand, I knew, he directed his iron-hard penis downward into my upturned bottom.
The picture of it, the wealthy, handsome man astride his bed girl about to impale her in this fundamental act of sexual dominance, came into my mind, so terribly wrong and so terribly arousing at the same time. With a whimper, spurred by the light contact of Master Hendryk’s finger on my breast, I moved my upper body a little without meaning to, in a wanton instinct to rub my nipples against the silky fabric.
“No, Renee,” he said, his voice almost a grunt. His hand gripped my ribs more tightly. “Stay still and take it.”
As he spoke, I felt his knees bend and the cock press more firmly for entry in my smallest place. I let out a whimper of urgent discomfort.
“What’s she doing?” Candy asked from behind me.
“Hush, Candy,” Master Hendryk replied. “Just watch me fuck your new bed sister now.”
“Yes, Master,” she said, with no exclamation point. Her voice even sounded a little sulky.
He had risen up a few millimeters as he spoke to Candy, easing the pressure on my sore little flower. After she had accepted his command, though, I felt the tension in his knees again, and then he thrust much harder, demanding my complete submission.
I cried out, and I clutched my bottom-cheeks, a flare of pain from the cane welts rising alongside the agony of having to take the penis. In desperation I pushed in that mortifying way, and I felt my master’s hardness enter me, driving brutally inward until I could feel him deep inside me, stretching me and filling me.
His lap came up against my bottom-cheeks, the golden fur tickling the backs of my fingers as I kept holding my ass open for his pleasure.
“Oh, you’re so deep, Master!” Candy exclaimed. “Are you going to fuck that bottom very hard?”
I wanted to cry out an objection… to lodge an accusation against the artificial girl. Master Hendryk had told her to hush! How could she say something so degrading after being told to be quiet? Our master should putheron the bed and giveherthis terrible lesson.
But I felt certain that Candy had only done what her programming told her to do, and I could tell that it enhanced Master Hendryk’s pleasure, because his hips jerked against my bottom, pushing his enormous manhood even deeper. I cried out, my upper body trying to rise on its own from the bed, as if I could crawl away from the shameful invasion.
Master Hendryk responded by taking hold of both my wrists and pinning them behind my back.
I yelped in discomfort, anxious for a moment that he might casually break my arms, but he clearly knew—nearly as well, it seemed to me, as Master G—how to handle a girl’s body, so as to obtain the pleasure he sought there. It hurt, as I knew Master Hendryk meant it to, but it wouldn’t harm me, because I was valuable: my owner wanted to be able to keep fucking me and disciplining me, and he had no intention of doing anything that would make that more difficult.
“Yes, Candy,” he growled. “Renee’s bottom is nice and tight, and I’m going to fuck it very hard.”
All rational thought went away then. My master took hold of my arms, just above my bent-back elbows, and used that grip for leverage as he began to fuck my anus. It hurt… it hurt terribly, but in the way that I had learned—and seemed to keep learning here in Master Hendryk’s house—would send me into that other place, the realm of subspace where pain of that kind transmuted itself into a strange, raw form of pleasure.
There, the way my thighs squeezed my empty pussy just a little with every thrust of the hardness in my anus made little tendrils of need creep through my bottom-cheeks. The way his rigid penis felt between those cheeks, the throbbing warmth as he came and went with his urgent rhythm, added to it, so that it seemed itself an important part of the discipline: not only the pain itself, but also the deprivation of any satisfaction for me. My master meant for me to feel how intentionally he had chosen the hole that gave me no truly fulfilling pleasure.
He fucked me that way for long minutes, as far as I could tell with my probably inaccurate sense of time. His pounding rhythm brought a wailing cry from me with every thrust, until those cries became begging words, “Please… please… please come… please come, Master.”
“I’ll come when I’m ready, girl,” Master Hendryk grunted and then, to my surprise—and it even seemed perhaps to his as well—his hips jerked and I felt the spurting of his cock as he emptied himself into my bottom.
“Ooo!” Candy said. “Did you come, Master? May I watch your semen trickle out of her ass?”
CHAPTER18
Renee
To my surprise, life with Candy didn’t take long to seem normal to me. Master Hendryk had to work a lot, and so I spent much of my time with my artificial bed sister. She happened—predictably, I supposed—to know how to cook like a three-star gourmet chef. That first day, when Master Hendryk had gone back to his office, she led me to the kitchen and sat me down, on a soft cushion but still with an emphatic wince, at the breakfast bar. Then, on the other side of that vast island topped in green marble, she made me the best omelet I had ever tasted.
I had lost track of the days completely at the Institute. I couldn’t have told you even on what day or date the auction had taken place. Master Hendryk’s work week quickly anchored me back in a measured flow of time, though: the auction, it turned out, had occurred on Sunday, so Master Hendryk had played with his toys—for some reason I couldn’t keep thinking of Candy and myself that way, and every time it sent an embarrassing amount of arousal shooting through my legs and making my clit tingle—on Monday morning, when he should have been working.
To my dismay, the idea that my obviously strong-willed master hadn’t had the moral strength to stay at his desk, but had instead felt the urgent need to come fuck my ass, also made me frown and bite my lip and become much too aware of the soreness he had left there—as well as my seemingly constant need for an orgasm. Master Hendryk fucked me every night and every morning that first week, using my mouth and my pussy alternately. He allowed me to come under his pounding cock as much as my body desired, but something about his dominance always left me needing more once he had departed for the office.
So maybe the part of life with Candy that got me used to her most quickly lay in the permission our owner gave us to play with each other, as long as I asked politely each time and Candy testified to my good behavior.
“I know from your dossier, Renee,” he said at dinner the first evening, “that at the Institute you got used to masturbating daily. That’s forbidden now unless I tell you to play with yourself. But if you behave during the day and obey me in bed like a good girl at night and in the morning, I’ll have Candy give you an orgasm every day.”
The catch lay in the fact that, with Master Hendryk’s approval, Candy got to decide what I had to do to earn that climax. When I felt needy in the shower each morning, with my hand lingering as I washed my pussy and felt the soreness my owner’s huge penis always left behind as a reminder of his use, I always had a dilemma.
I knew I would give in, and plead with Candy to ask Master Hendryk to grant permission. I feared the price she would exact—especially after the second day, Tuesday, when she declared that if I wanted to come I would have to be spanked.
