imagination. How big is his cock? Am I going to get a chance to taste it? Try as I did, no one on the ship would let me blow them. They all wanted me to save it for the King because they thought it would fetch me a higher price.
A few said my first time should be “special.”
Most just wanted the money.
“Care to take a picture?” The King asks, and I immediately raise my eyes back to his. He’s staring at me with a look of complete boredom on his face and I realize he’s like a spoiled brat who just got a birthday gift he didn’t like.
Wisely, for once, I decide to stay quiet.
“Ah, now she holds her tongue,” he clucks, and sets his drink down. He walks back over and looks me up and down. Even in my dress, I feel naked beneath his gaze. “Let’s get something straight, darling,” he whispers in my ear. “I don’t want you.”
He doesn’t want me.
“I don’t need you.”
He doesn’t want me.
“I wanted a beautiful little slut to be my plaything, to be my toy, and fucking Lee brought me you .” He says the “you” with such venom that I suddenly feel nauseous. I expected a lot of things from my new life on Taneyemm, but disgust was not one of them.
My newfound curves suddenly make me feel awkward and embarrassed. I exercised almost every on my journey, so my body is now strong and muscular, but I’m still soft. My breasts are bigger than they’ve ever been and my hips have filled out.
I look healthy, or so I thought. Maybe the King is right.
Maybe I’m just a cow.
He doesn’t want me.
“Why don’t you return me?” I whisper. Maybe he should just give someone else a chance on me.
He laughs, but he still doesn’t want me.
“I don’t think so. I think having you could prove to be useful. You do speak Drakonai, after all. Perhaps my men will speak more freely around a house slave than they will around me, especially if they don’t realize you can speak.”
He doesn’t want me.
“Yes, I think I’ll keep you, but fuck you? Darling, you will never see my bed.” He walks by me and pinches my nipple as he does. “Fucking virgin,” he mutters, and then he leaves the room.
As soon as the door closes I pick up the glass he set on the desk and throw it at the back of the door. It falls to the floor and shatters, but before I can start screaming obscenities, he marches right back into the room and pushes me forward over his desk. He flips my dress up and starts raining slaps on my backside. His spanking is hard and fast and painful.
Sexy?
Not so much.
“You are a naughty little girl and naughty girls get spankings,” he says firmly. His voice is not kind. His hand does not feel nice. I do not feel loved or cared for or cherished. I feel like a cheap whore who couldn’t keep her client satisfied, and as he spanks me, I cry loudly. By the time he’s done, my body is slack against the desk.
“Stay until May comes for you,” he says, and then he leaves again, and this time, I don’t dare move.
***
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” May says softly when she enters. I finally turn around to see her. She has a kind face. She’s older than me, if I had to guess. I’m 28, and I think she must be at least 10 years older.
May is the same height as me and a bit heavier. She’s got the full, lush curves of a woman. Even though the King called me fat, I wouldn’t say that about May. She’s no thin waif, but she’s not fat.
She defines curvy.
Her dress is sleeveless, like mine, but it ends just below her knees. The fabric clings to her body and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was going to a special event. She’s barefoot, so I suspect this might just be what she wears around the house.
“I’m Riley,” I manage to say.
“I know, honey,” she helps me stand and pushes the fabric of my dress down. I hiss as it hits my sore backside, and May winces in understanding. “It’ll hurt for a few days,” she says, “but the worst is
A few said my first time should be “special.”
Most just wanted the money.
“Care to take a picture?” The King asks, and I immediately raise my eyes back to his. He’s staring at me with a look of complete boredom on his face and I realize he’s like a spoiled brat who just got a birthday gift he didn’t like.
Wisely, for once, I decide to stay quiet.
“Ah, now she holds her tongue,” he clucks, and sets his drink down. He walks back over and looks me up and down. Even in my dress, I feel naked beneath his gaze. “Let’s get something straight, darling,” he whispers in my ear. “I don’t want you.”
He doesn’t want me.
“I don’t need you.”
He doesn’t want me.
“I wanted a beautiful little slut to be my plaything, to be my toy, and fucking Lee brought me you .” He says the “you” with such venom that I suddenly feel nauseous. I expected a lot of things from my new life on Taneyemm, but disgust was not one of them.
My newfound curves suddenly make me feel awkward and embarrassed. I exercised almost every on my journey, so my body is now strong and muscular, but I’m still soft. My breasts are bigger than they’ve ever been and my hips have filled out.
I look healthy, or so I thought. Maybe the King is right.
Maybe I’m just a cow.
He doesn’t want me.
“Why don’t you return me?” I whisper. Maybe he should just give someone else a chance on me.
He laughs, but he still doesn’t want me.
“I don’t think so. I think having you could prove to be useful. You do speak Drakonai, after all. Perhaps my men will speak more freely around a house slave than they will around me, especially if they don’t realize you can speak.”
He doesn’t want me.
“Yes, I think I’ll keep you, but fuck you? Darling, you will never see my bed.” He walks by me and pinches my nipple as he does. “Fucking virgin,” he mutters, and then he leaves the room.
As soon as the door closes I pick up the glass he set on the desk and throw it at the back of the door. It falls to the floor and shatters, but before I can start screaming obscenities, he marches right back into the room and pushes me forward over his desk. He flips my dress up and starts raining slaps on my backside. His spanking is hard and fast and painful.
Sexy?
Not so much.
“You are a naughty little girl and naughty girls get spankings,” he says firmly. His voice is not kind. His hand does not feel nice. I do not feel loved or cared for or cherished. I feel like a cheap whore who couldn’t keep her client satisfied, and as he spanks me, I cry loudly. By the time he’s done, my body is slack against the desk.
“Stay until May comes for you,” he says, and then he leaves again, and this time, I don’t dare move.
***
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” May says softly when she enters. I finally turn around to see her. She has a kind face. She’s older than me, if I had to guess. I’m 28, and I think she must be at least 10 years older.
May is the same height as me and a bit heavier. She’s got the full, lush curves of a woman. Even though the King called me fat, I wouldn’t say that about May. She’s no thin waif, but she’s not fat.
She defines curvy.
Her dress is sleeveless, like mine, but it ends just below her knees. The fabric clings to her body and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was going to a special event. She’s barefoot, so I suspect this might just be what she wears around the house.
“I’m Riley,” I manage to say.
“I know, honey,” she helps me stand and pushes the fabric of my dress down. I hiss as it hits my sore backside, and May winces in understanding. “It’ll hurt for a few days,” she says, “but the worst is
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