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I sensed Ivan’s body shifting. His legs, massive and furry, straddled mine, their golden curls tickling my outer thighs. He spoke at the same moment I felt the head of his cock press gently into the slick tunnel I had displayed, offered for his use.
“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll come in here first, so I can last longer in your ass.”
I let out another sob as to my horror my hips gave a tiny jerk, a lewd reflex in response to my new owner’s coarse brutality.
When you’re ready, he had said.
I’ll come in here so I can last longer in your ass, he had said.
I whimpered as my hips did it again, as I couldn’t help trying to impale my pussy on my master’s manhood, and I realized how very ready Ivan’s unexpected mixture of cruelty and care, of humiliation and apparent affection, had made me.
“Shh, girl,” Ivan said, moving his cock slowly and gently up and down a little, in and out very shallowly. “You’ll remember this for the rest of your life, so don’t be so impatient. You’ll have more cock than you can handle very soon.”
How could he… just say that, some remaining rational part of my mind asked. That didn’t even represent the most pressing and yet the most repellent question: how could those brutal words make me move my hips again, in a humiliating quest for my own defloration by the man who had purchased me?
Ivan chuckled, and the demeaning sound brought another sob, so violent that it shook the ottoman under me.
“You are a naughty girl, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “And a good one, too.”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered, obscurely and dismayingly grateful yet again for the wand’s making me speak the words I would otherwise have had a terrible time resisting—and would probably have failed to restrain.
“What do you want, naughty girl?”
Oh, no. The gratitude disappeared.
“Please…” I begged, “please, Master… don’t make me… don’t make me say it.”
The words emerged of their own accord, and I knew they represented the deepest part of me, and I felt my face blaze with shame.
Ivan moved his cock again, up and down, in and out. Not merely my hips but my whole body jerked in abject need.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please?”
To my astonishment and another embarrassing upwelling of gratitude, Ivan took pity on me. He chuckled again, and he spoke words full of mingled consolation and degradation, even as he put his hands on my hips and gripped me firmly there.
“That’s all right, Heather,” he said. “I know what you need.”
I felt his fingers tighten around my waist. I gave a little cry of alarm, but at the same moment it rose to my lips Ivan Antonov drove his enormous manhood through the barrier of my virginity and deep into my pussy.
CHAPTER 12
Heather
I felt his muscular lap come up against my hands, my bottom, pressing firmly and reawakening the painful memory of my first spanking. Then I felt the pain. I cried out, my head thrown back and my back arched. My body, of its own accord, the most basic fight-or-flight instinct overriding even the wand’s control, tried to get away from what seemed like the red-hot iron poker my master had thrust into my most sensitive place.
Ivan’s strong, firm hands didn’t allow it. He held me against him as if he refused to part with the pleasure my no-longer-virgin sheath afforded his huge cock, rendering my most strenuous effort absolutely trivial. My punished bottom couldn’t move more than a millimeter away from his unyielding lap. I cried out again as my own attempt to escape sent another searing stab of pain from my newly claimed pussy through my whole body.
I seemed to hear, in my head, the meaning of that unrelenting grip, as if Ivan had spoken the brutal words in my ear, “You’re not going anywhere, you little slut. Your tight little cunt is going to stay right here on your master’s cock, until he comes inside you.”
My second cry became a moan at the simple idea of these degrading, unspoken words—the sort of words I already felt certain Ivan would in fact never say, though my inner conflict only grew at the thought that my owner would spare his fuck toy’s feelings. The pain of the cock’s first cruel invasion of my untried pussy faded so rapidly it took me by surprise, transmuting itself and blending into the glowing soreness that still radiated from my bottom.
Ivan began to move inside me, holding my hips fast and simply withdrawing a little, no more than a centimeter, before pressing his rigid penis back inside, just as deep. I could feel the head of it against what I thought must be the entrance to my womb, and it made me whimper with each renewal of the pressure, the slight discomfort that something deep inside me knew only represented what a girl like me should experience when her master fucked her.
