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“Because it’s a big cock. Es too big. Off with you. I am not bad.”
He let go, sitting and jerking up my hips. “On your knees. Keep your head on the bed.
“I’m good and not a slave. I’m Clara, and I’m good.”
At wetness from his pre-cum sliding over my folds, my head jerked up.Whack!The spanking brought more tears.
“I said,down. I thought you said you were good.”
An aggravated sound left me as I dropped it back to the pillow. “I’m better than this slave. Why do you do that? Tease?”
“Are you not getting turned on? You like this.”
The head of his cock explored around my entrance, moving towards my clit. The sensations were so strong, I found myself pushing back against him as he nudged inside, only to continue rubbing over me. For minutes he built me up, introducing me into something so wicked I was sure I’d bring every plague against me for the amount I enjoyed it.
“Lean.” He lifted my ass higher. “Keep yourself like this. You’ll learn. Sixty-three’s slave was a d1. Docile and trained. Elec tells me she’s really sweet and completely embraces her status. She was in school to be a therapist before she was taken. I guess she was allowed to help transition girls into this life before she even went to auction. Our Main Master is thinking about letting her continue with her duties to the new slaves brought in. Not only that, George tells me she follows a schedule he made. While I was tossing shots this morning thinking about what to do with you and your attitude, she was making him breakfast and coffee. Maybe I should have gotten me a d, too. I bet you can’t even cook.”
“I’ll burn your food on purpose talking like that. Cook for you, noy.You cook for me now.”
The bed shook with his laughter. I didn’t find it funny. I could cook. I was a fantastic cook. And I was good. My mother taught me all things.
“I bet she can’t make clothes or breadska from scratch. I can.”
“Breadska?”
“Sweet bread. Special bread. I’ll make and you’ll see. Coffee. Ha. More like dirty water. She doesn’t know anything about coffee. I’ll make it right, the Bordelli way. You’ll like it; you’ll see.”
“Someone’s all fired up.”
He tapped his tip against my clit again, stopping my rant in its tracks. A sigh left me, and I let myself get lost in the need.
“Are you done?”
I moaned, content to lose myself in the pleasure.
“I take that as a yes.”
“I’m done.”
“Good.”
The bed shifted and teeth bit into my ass sending me stiffening and yelping. As soon as I thought I could enjoy, he stole it, transitioning it to something new. In an odd way,better. Nails raked down my back as he repositioned himself on his knees.
“Do you remember what I said last night?”
“No pleasure without pain.
“Yes.”
Pressure fit against my opening. The stinging was back and had me gripping to the sheet that covered the mattress. In. Out. He eased his cock in, careful not to do more damage than he’d already done. I was so sore, yet he kept getting it to feel good.
“I love these hips and thighs.” He held tightly, sliding inside me even more. I went to lift when he pushed me back down. “Be good like you say you are. Take it, slave. It’s not too big for you.”
Something wet rolled down my back causing me to turn my head to the other side to try to see. I couldn’t, but what I could do was feel, and it didn’t take long before my mind started to get fuzzy. Thoughts faded, but I knew this need suddenly taking over me. I was getting soaking wet, moaning and cursing at the same time.
“The Main Master gave you that oil? But you said—”
“You let me worry about what I said. I know what I’m doing, slave. You’ll come and it’ll relax you. I need you good at lunch.”
