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I closed my eyes and swallowed hard as I heard the soft sound of the little bottle of solvent being opened. I felt the brush, down at the very bottom of the shameful seam, and I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering as I felt the lips begin to pull apart at last.
It took only seconds, I felt certain, though those seconds seemed to last eons. My master opened my outer labia millimeter by millimeter, and I felt the air move against the inner lips and then at last the hood of my clit for the first time in days. My breath panted in and out, each puff outward carrying a tiny whine of need, because the sensation of being available for Christian’s thrusting cock once again felt so terribly intense.
“Such a beautiful little pussy,” Christian said softly. “So very fuckable.”
Heat flooded all over my body at his words. When he reinforced them with the touch of his rigid cock to the place I ached so deeply for it, my whole body shuddered as if from my still-nearly-virgin sheath outward into every limb, every finger and toe. My hips jerked upward, trying to get my desperate vagina onto his beautiful cock.
“This is going to hurt a little, Leah,” I heard him say. “Your pussy tightens up when it’s closed for a day or two, Selecta says. That’s the last part of the punishment.”
“Oh…” I whispered, and then that whisper became a cry of pain because my master had again confirmed his words with action: he put his right hand on my belly, just above the little rising mound of my pussy, and he thrust with his hips, not violently but very, very firmly, driving his massive cock into me just as forcefully as he had done when he had taken my virginity. I was tighter there… my pussy had become more pleasurable for my master and more painful for me… just as a wayward girl like me deserved.
For an instant my whole body felt like it would fly apart, because the terrible discomfort of Christian’s thrusting penis quickly became so intermingled with need and pleasure that my nervous system seemed on the verge of shutting down. I writhed under him, so that he had to hold me down with both hands around the garter belt at my waist as he began to fuck me.
Then I started to come. Astonishment at the speed of the orgasm quickly became amazement at how many climaxes my master’s using me like his rag doll fuck toy could bring on. It felt as if the restraint of his hands, the sensation of my naughty lingerie and my pretty pumps still on me as my keeper fucked me, the relentless pounding of the huge, hard shaft in the sheath nature had made for it… it seemed to create a feedback loop of pleasure that had shot me far beyond the rim of the galaxy.
“Look at me, Rebel,” Christian grunted, his voice so commanding that my eyes flew open. His hairy chest rose and fell. His eyes burned as his cock plunged into my pussy over and over. “This is so nice and tight,” he growled, “that I’m going to…”
The words became an inarticulate grunt. I felt my eyes go wide as I realized that my body had pleased my master even more than he had expected. Between my thighs, deep inside me, I felt the hot steel bar of his manhood pulse. His hips jerked hard, and the sheer depth of his thrust made my body buck in a sudden discomfort that brought on another wave of pleasure as I felt his warm seed flood into my womb.
Christian’s climax seemed to go on and on, his hips’ irregular rhythm showing the same pleasure I could see in the wolfish gaze he had fixed downward on my submissive face.
“Thank you,” I found myself whispering. “Thank you, sir.”
As I fell asleep in his arms, helped tenderly out of my lingerie and into my big sleep t-shirt (“No panties,” Christian murmured, “so I can fuck you in the morning”), his soft voice roused me from a half-dream of white dresses and beautiful flowers.
“You know you’re not going to stop being my wayward rebel,” he breathed into my ear. “And that’s the way I want it.”
I heard myself give a soft giggle, as if most of my mind was already asleep and I was dreaming of the girl in the strong, handsome, rich man’s arms.
“Yes, sir,” that girl whispered, knowing she’d reached her happy ending—one of many, she dared to hope. “Oh, yes.”
The End
