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So thoroughly used, and yet still small, tight, and suited to the pleasure of a dominant man who knew how to use me properly.
I watched Ivan’s eyes flick slightly downward, and I knew he had noticed my mortifying display.
“Yes, Heather,” he said softly. “Right there. I fucked my little slut right there, did I not?”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered, my lips closing over therofmasterfor the first time since my mouth had engulfed Ivan’s enormous cock, and he had used his strong fingers to hold my face in place as he thrust the rock-hard shaft of his penis in and out so deeply. As always, my lips felt strange—different from the way they felt when my mouth belonged to me… when I could use my body to do what I chose, instead of putting it completely at my master’s service.
“Put your finger inside, girl. All the way to the second knuckle.”
I felt my face crumple, my cheeks blazing with heat even as the helpless arousal took hold anew between my thighs. A sob tore itself from my throat, and I obeyed the degrading command. My hips jerked with need at the forbidden feeling, the wicked finger going where it mustn’t, inside the naughtiest place of all.
“Fuck yourself with that finger,” my master instructed, “and tell me how it felt to have your bottom opened on my cock for the first time.”
His fingers, twined in my hair, gripped my skull tighter and I realized that I had started to try to shake my head in a futile refusal of the dreadful, delicious command. My forehead had begun to ache from the depth of the furrow my need and shame had made there. I breathed raggedly through my nostrils for a moment.
“If I have to get the wand,” Ivan said, his eyes narrowing again, “I’m going to whip you, too, Heather. Do as you’re told.”
I sobbed, and started to move my middle finger in and out of the little hole. The memory came flooding back: Ivan’s ice-blue eyes, somehow warm despite the glacier they evoked, gazing down at me from what seemed impossibly high up, as he pushed the enormous bulk of his manhood into my virgin bottom.
Breathing through my mouth in desperate little pants, trying to relax the tightness, ease the painful, thrilling sensation of stretching far past what I ever thought I might have to bear.
“You…” I breathed. I bit my lip as I moved the naughty finger in and out, my hips thrusting of their own accord against it, as if I needed more in that forbidden place no matter how sore my owner’s friends had made me there. “You… you made me… you made me take it all.”
“You needed it all, girl,” Ivan said, his voice rough with passion and his huge manhood jutting menacingly between us. “Lick.”
I whimpered and obeyed, humiliatingly grateful for his sparing me more words for the moment. I licked Ivan’s cock the way he liked, from the base—the so-sensitive spot, where the shaft met the tightly wrinkled sack that held his balls—to the head, with the reverent kiss at the end that always made his manhood give a tiny leap, as if in appreciation of his bed girl’s talent. My eyes stayed locked on his, the shame of having to see him watch me pleasure him that way bringing more heat to my cheeks.
“I put it in gently, didn’t I?” he asked softly.
I let out another whimpering moan, a sound so submissive it brought a new clench between my legs.
“Yes, Master,” I whispered. He had gone slowly, all the way in, until his lap had come up against my spanked bottom. I had sobbed with need and discomfort as I looked up into the face of the man who had claimed me completely.
“And then?” Ivan inquired, a slight, arrogant smile curling his lips.
I moved my finger in and out faster. My pussy ached with my need. For the first time since I had arrived back at Ivan’s palace I wondered if my master would let me come, as he always had before after my return to him following a night of being shared with other men.
“Then you fucked my bottom very, very hard, Master.”
For a moment, I thought I saw Ivan’s eyes change, a look of concern coming into them, as if a wayward thought had interfered with the purity of his dominant lust. I felt my own face respond, the wild expression of wanton desire changing to puzzlement.
Suddenly, though I couldn’t tell whether it had anything to do with the strange moment—if the strange moment had even happened—my master thrust me away from him and stood up.
“You may go to bed in your own room,” Ivan said. “I’ll be traveling tomorrow, so I’m going to leave Pyotr in charge of you.”
I gazed up at him with wide eyes, suddenly terrified that he had somehow seen into my soul and understood that I was in fact a spy come to destroy him. He didn’t look at me, but walked toward the door, fastening his robe as he went.
“Good night, Heather,” he said, still without turning back toward me.
CHAPTER14
Heather
My terror didn’t leave me that nearly sleepless night, or for a moment the whole of the next day. Just the previous day, before the unknown Guard agent had activated me, I had felt so at ease in my master’s house. Yes, I had been an owned fuck toy then, as I was today, but I had also clearly meant a great deal to the frighteningly powerful Ivan Antonov.
Today, I didn’t think I could have felt that way, could have known the smallest part of the comfort I had felt just twenty-four hours before—even if Pyotr hadn’t decided to make the most of Ivan’s absence and the express power to command me that our master had clearly bestowed, just as he had told me in his study, in that cold voice, the night before.
No sooner had I awoken in the little bed that occupied most of ‘my’ room than it began. I had in fact never actually slept in that bedroom before, because Ivan had taken me to his own bed for fucking every night since my arrival. Even after sending me out to serve other men, he had wanted me for himself into the wee hours of the morning, first in the study and then in his enormous suite of rooms. There I had become accustomed to fall asleep, exhausted and humiliatingly happy, from the sheer fatigue that came with my master’s body’s demands on mine.
